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ArtScroll and More

ArtScroll and More
Marc B. Shapiro
In an earlier post here I discussed ArtScroll’s use of a censored talmudic text.[1] This happens quite a bit and it is not always clear if the translators were aware that they were working with an inauthentic text. However, for many passages there is no question that they realize that what they are translating is not authentic but was added because of fear of non-Jewish reaction. Here is a chart someone drew up showing how the various new Talmud editions deal with the matter of censorship.

It is significant that even in the Hebrew ArtScroll the text that is used is censored. ArtScroll has never publicly explained why they have adopted this approach, but I think it is obvious that unlike other publishers, ArtScroll is still worried about creating anti-Semitism and thus continues to print a censored Talmud. While I think everyone agrees that the ArtScroll Talmud translation is a masterpiece, opinions will obviously differ as to whether ArtScroll made a mistake in not restoring the Talmud to its pre-censorship state.[2]
ArtScroll’s approach is different than that of other publishers who are very happy that they can now include the complete uncensored words of the Talmud. Ezra Chwat’s words express the feeling of every publisher other than ArtScroll.[3]
אין צורך להדגיש את החשיבות של הנגשת הסוגיה המקורית לעשרות אלפי הלומדים את הגמרא כפי שיצא מפיהם הקדושים של האמוראים, ושלא יסתפקו ב”גירסא” שאושרה על ידי הכנסייה.
Yet R. Leopold Greenwald had the exact opposite approach, and he was upset when he heard that a new Talmud was being printed that reinserted the censored texts. His words reflect the approach later adopted by ArtScroll [4]:
ומה מאד דאבה נפשנו בראותנו, כי מכריזים גם עכשיו על “המציאה הגדולה”, כי בירושלים מדפיסים כעת תלמוד עם כל ההשמטות שהשמיטו הצנזורים במשך מאות שנים. ועל זה אנו קוראים: שקול טובתך! בני ישראל לא ישבעו עונג מהטובה הזאת, לא ספרותנו ולא חכמתנו יתעשרו מהשמטות הללו, לא בזמננו ולא בהדורות שאחרינו. כבר שבענו צרות ומכאובות. ולהיות בפי כל מחבל בודאי אסון הוא. איפוא הם חכמי ירושלים? האם אינם רואים כי מזה לא תושע יהודה וכי צוררי ישראל ישיגו חומר מסוכן חדש?
For those who are unaware of the details, let me just mention that I am not referring to a word here or there that was censored and has not been restored by ArtScroll. Sanhedrin 43a has a number of lines dealing with the execution of Jesus and his disciples. While the entire section is found in Soncino (in translation), Steinsaltz, Wagshal and Oz ve-Hadar, it is not to be found in ArtScroll. Both the English and Hebrew editions of ArtScroll tell the reader that a section has been deleted from the Vilna Shas. However, in Sanhedrin 67a, where another section has been deleted and is found in the other editions just mentioned, ArtScroll does not inform the reader of the deletion.
An allusion to the Sanhedrin 67a text is found in Va-Avo ha-Yom el ha-Ayin, attributed to R. Jonathan Eybeschuetz. This explosive text, which remained in manuscript for almost three hundred years, has just appeared in print, edited by Pawel Maciejko.[5] Va-Avo ha-Yom el ha-Ayin is very important to understanding the controversy over R. Eybeschuetz. (I hope that the manuscript Gahalei Esh, a treasure trove of documents dealing with eighteenth-century Sabbatianism, will also soon appear in a scholarly edition.) Quite apart from the radical theological notions found in Va-Avo ha-Yom el ha-Ayin, Maciejko describes the work as follows: “[I]t is blatantly pornographic (in fact, it is possibly the only truly pornographic text ever written in the rabbinic idiom.)”[6]
Speaking of pornography let me add the following. Not long ago I was visiting a certain synagogue for Shabbat. When it came time for Torah reading I took out the chumash that was near me. It happened to be the one published by R. Aryeh Kaplan. I actually am not a fan of this chumash for use in synagogue as its focus is entirely philological, and doesn’t deal with any of the issues that a typical person would want explained in reviewing the Torah portion. But this was what I had so I used it. In Exodus 35:22 an unusual word appears: כומז. It means some sort of golden bodily ornament. The word also appears in Numbers 31:50. According to the Exodus passage, this was one of the items the Israelites in the desert donated at the time of the building of the Tabernacle. The passage is Numbers refers to booty taken from the Midianites. Among the different interpretations Kaplan offers for כומז is “a pornographic sculpture.” This is quoted in the name of R. Aaron Alrabi (fifteenth century). I was quite shocked when I saw this and later saw that this interpretation is also quoted by R. Kasher in Torah Shelemah, which must have been where Kaplan saw it.
Alrabi wrote a commentary on Rashi which was published in Constantinople in 1525. In this work, on Exodus 35:22, Alrabi writes:
יראה לי שהוא תכשיט מצוייר צורת רחם האשה כדי שישתוקק רואהו לפועל המשגל והצנועות היו מביאות אותו עליהן בחדריהם לתת תשוקה לבעליהן העין רואה והלב חומד בו, והיה זה לכונה טובה לכן הותרו לשרת בקדש
What this means is that the item in question had a picture of a woman’s private parts. The Israelite women would have their husbands look at it in order to sexually excite them before they had marital relations. Since this pornographic viewing was for a good purpose, it was permitted for these items to be donated for use in building the Tabernacle. Here is the original text.
Those who want to see the book in its entirety can view it here.
I find this explanation quite strange. I don’t know what led Alrabi to his original understanding and why he did not find any of the prior explanations compelling.
Incidentally, one of the other explanations cited by Kaplan is that כומז means a chastity belt. R. Ephraim ben Shimshon (12th-13th centuries) writes[7]:
הכומז היה כלי כמנעול שקושרת האשה פתחה שלא יודעו להם שם אדם, כי אם בעלה לבד, והוא גודר הערוה.
This is how he understands Shabbat 64a which states that כומז means דפוס של בית הרחם. Soncino translates this as “cast of the womb” and ArtScroll translates it the exact same way. Koren translates “a mold [in the shape] of the womb.” In general I would say that disagreeing with these three translations is not a smart thing to do, yet in this case I must do just that. The translations I have cited are incorrect as they do not reflect what the Talmud is saying. בית הרחם in Shabbat 64a does not mean “womb” but rather something else. In order not to cause problems for those with internet filters I won’t spell it out completely, but I think the reader already understands.[8]
Rashi, Exodus 35:22, in summarizing the Talmud leaves no doubt in this matter:
כלי זהב הוא נתון כנגד אותו מקום לאשה
The very text in Shabbat 64a also lets us know that this matter has nothing to do with a “womb”, as immediately following the explanation of דפוס של בית הרחם the Talmud explains that the wordכומז  is an acronym of כאן מקום זימה “here is the place of lewdness”, and there is no issue of lewdness with the womb. ArtScroll itself, in its note on this latter passage, explains the matter well: “The place encased by this ornament is the part of the body which is the focus of lewdness.” In other words, in its commentary ArtScroll tells us that we are not dealing with the womb at all, but with another part of a woman’s anatomy. As such, it was a mistake for ArtScroll in its translation to adopt Soncino’s rendering of כומז as “cast of the womb”.
In his commentary to Berakhot 24a s.v. תכשיטין שבפנים, Rashi explains that a כומז is a chastity belt. From the context of this talmudic passage we see that it also had ornamental significance:
כומז דפוס של בית הרחם שהיו עושין לבנותיהן ונוקבין כותלי בית הרחם כדרך שנוקבין את האזנים ותוחבין אותו כדי שלא יזדקקו להן זכרים
In its commentary, ibid., ArtScroll summarizes Rashi as follows: “The kumaz was an ornament that covered a woman’s private parts.”
Let me return to Shabbat 64a where כומז is explained as being an acronym for כאן מקום זימה. The Maharal, Gur Aryeh, Ex. 35:11, writes:
מפני שהוקשה להם לרז”ל שאין דרך לשון הקודש לקרא שם מיוחד לדברים שהם ערוה . . . כל דבר ערוה אין הכתוב נותן לו שם מיוחד . . . וכאן למה קרא כומז שם מיוחד אל הכלי הזה שהוא דפוס בית רחם, ולכך דרשו רז”ל שהוא כאן מקום זימה והשתא אין שם מיוחד לכלי זה רק כאילו נקרא כאן זימה.
I don’t understand the Maharal’s point. Just because there are no words in leshon ha-kodesh for sexual organs, why should we assume that there is no name for an item designed to cover a sexual organ?
Returning to the matter of “pornographic viewing” as described by Alrabi, I wonder if this could also have halakhic significance. I mention this only because of the controversy some years ago by an answer given by R. Shlomo Aviner that in a she’at ha-dehak (i.e., there are serious marital sexual issues) it would be permitted for a husband and wife to together view explicit pictures in a book. See here.
The entire conversation with R. Aviner was a set-up, and the anti-Aviner website used it to attack R. Aviner, and portray him as permitting viewing of pornography. Yet it is obvious that he was referring to sexual self-help books (which would have explicit pictures) since he refers to books found in Steimatzky. R. Moses Feinstein had earlier permitted a soon-to-be-married man to read sexual self-help books.[9] There is no indication in R. Feinstein’s responsum that he is also including the viewing of pictures in such books, but I do not know if he would regard this as a problem if the pictures are not of real people but are drawings.
Let us return to the subject of chastity belts. In the Wikipedia entry for “Chastity Belt” one finds the following:
Gregory the Great, Alcuin of York, Bernard of Clairvaux and Nicholas Gorranus all made passing references to ‘chastity belts’ within their exhortatory and public discourses, but meant this in a figurative or metaphorical sense within their historical context.
The first detailed actual mention of what could be interpreted as “chastity belts” in the West is in Konrad Kyeser von Eichstätt’s Bellifortis (1405), which describes the military technology of the era.
As we have seen, Rashi and R. Ephraim are not referring to chastity belts in a metaphorical sense. Thus, their mention of the item is of general historical significance, and Rashi (1040-1105) might be the earliest recorded example of someone referring to a chastity belt. Eric John Dingwall wrote an entire book on the subject of chastity belts entitled The Girdle of Chastity (Scranton, 1959). On p. 14 he writes: “There can be little doubt that the idea of such a device, at least in a somewhat modified form, was current at least as early as the second half of the twelfth century.” He then cites the late twelfth-century Guigemar Epic, written by Marie de France, as a source of this. Yet Rashi’s mention of the chastity belt predates this source by around a century.
See also here where as part of a museum exhibition on chastity belts it states:
Until the 12th century, there are no textual memories related to chastity belts at all (not even any allusions without actually using the term) where the reference is not in a theological or mythological context.
This sentence is incorrect, for as we have seen Rashi referred to chastity belts many decades before Marie de France, who is also cited in the museum exhibition as the first one to refer to the item. What we have here is a good example where scholars make judgments based exclusively on their knowledge of medieval Latin, Romance and Germanic literature. Exposure to what appears in medieval Hebrew texts would have caused them to alter these judgments.
Returning to ArtScroll, here is an example where I believe that ArtScroll has printed something that they know is incorrect, but did so in the interest of good Jewish-Gentile relations. I think it is a noteworthy example as it has nothing to do with a censored text, but focuses on the explanation of the Talmud. Avodah Zarah 6a states that according to R. Yishmael it is forbidden to do business with idolaters because of Sunday. Rashi explains that this means that one can never do business with idolaters since one cannot do business with them three days before and three days after their holiday, and this includes the entire seven-day week.
It doesn’t take much imagination to realize what the Talmud is referring to by “Sunday”, and in the uncensored text it actually has  נוצרי, נוצרים or  יום הנוצרי instead of “Sunday”. Yet ArtScroll in its translation states that the Talmud is referring to “Babylonian pagans who observe a sun-worshiping festival every Sunday.” It is true that Meiri states as much.[10] Meiri also claims that when the Talmud uses the word נוצרים it does not mean followers of ישו הנוצרי, but refers to the use of the term in Jeremiah 4:16, which Meiri claims is derived from the word נבוכדנצר.[11] While it is true that R. David Kimhi also sees the word in Jeremiah 4:16 as related to נבוכדנצר, it is Meiri alone who claims that this is also intended when the Talmud refers to נוצרים.
It is certainly appropriate that ArtScroll cited Meiri’s explanation in a note, but how is it that this is the only explanation cited, when other than Meiri everyone else has assumed, with good reason, that נוצרים refers to Christians? This can only be an example of ArtScroll shading the truth for apologetic reasons. People can debate the appropriateness of this, but there can be no doubt that ArtScroll is not being frank in its presentation here.
In the ArtScroll Hebrew edition it also quotes Meiri and states the that Talmud is not referring to Christians. Yet unlike in the English edition, in the Hebrew ArtScroll there is a note which states: “See Rambam, Hilkhot Avodat Kokhavim 9:4”. If you open up the Mishneh Torah what you find is that the Rambam states:
הנוצרים עובדי עבודה זרה הן ויום ראשון יום אידם הוא
In other words, by referring to the Mishneh Torah after mentioning Meiri, ArtScroll is alerting readers to the fact that the Rambam does not agree with Meiri and believes that the passage in Avodah Zarah 6a indeed refers to Christians. Yet this is never spelled out in ArtScroll, and you need to take their suggestion to consult the Mishneh Torah in order to learn that not everyone agrees that when the Talmud mentions those who make Sunday their holiday that it is referring to Babylonian pagans. (In fact, as already mentioned, only Meiri advocates this position.) Does the average person who learns daf yomi realize this?
In case anyone has any doubts as to what I am saying, please note the following. After referring to Maimonides, the note in the Hebrew ArtScroll calls attention to the Venice edition of the Talmud with Rashi, and to Dikdukei Soferim. Again, only one who examines these sources will learn that they offer an interpretation at odds with Meiri. If you look at the Venice Talmud or Dikdukei Soferim (or even Steinsaltz) you will find that in Avodah Zarah 6a Rashi explains:
נוצרי, ההולך בטעותו של אותו איש שצוה להם לעשות להם יום איד בא’ בשבת
In other words, Rashi tells us, just like Maimonides, that when the Talmud refers to those who celebrate נוצרי יום it means the Christians who follow Jesus.I find it significant that even in the Hebrew edition ArtScroll feels the need to only allude to the explanation of Rashi and Maimonides, while presenting Meiri’s explanation as the standard understanding of the text. ArtScroll certainly knows that this is not the standard understanding, and ArtScroll itself cannot believe that Meiri’s understanding is what the Talmud really means. After all, every other medieval commentator agrees with Rashi and Maimonides. In this case, the only explanation is that ArtScroll is following a long apologetic tradition, which was based on fear of what the non-Jews would say if they knew the true meaning of certain talmudic passages.

Another example of this tendency was called to my attention by R. Moshe Maimon. Ketubot 15a discusses the case of A killing B, when A actually intended to kill another person. In its discussion the Talmud refers to “Canaanites”, which in the current context simply means non-Jews. In fact, in all manuscripts and early printings what appears is not “Canaanites” but “goyim”.[12] “Canaanites” is simply a “correction” of the censor. Yet ArtScroll has a note explaining that “The Canaanites were the pagan people who lived in Eretz Yisrael before the Israelites entered the land.” The implication of this comment is that the halakhah stated in the Talmud was only applicable with the ancient Canaanites but not with regard to other non-Jews. This is false and ArtScroll knows it is false, but it is no different than the “note to reader” found in many seforim that all the halakhot about non-Jews only refer to the pagans in faraway places. In the latter case everyone knew (and knows) that these words are not to be taken seriously, but I would assume that the typical user of the ArtScroll English Talmud does not realize this. It is noteworthy that the ArtScroll Hebrew Talmud does not include the note about the Canaanites.[13]
In 1728, an era in which Jewish-Gentile relations were not the best, R. Jonathan Eybeschuetz printed Tractate Berakhot with many deletions, as this was the only way he was given permission to publish the volume. Here is the title page.
The volume can be found at hebrewbooks.org here. True to form, R. Jacob Emden accused R. Eybeschuetz of being in league with the bishop of Prague and intent only on making money from his new printing.[14] There was also a lot of controversy about this edition, not only because of the many deletions but even more so because of the instances where the talmudic text was rewritten. While non-Jewish censorship has a long history, this latter practice, of Jews agreeing to rewrite sections of the talmudic text, was a new and more dangerous phenomenon. Other tractates were later printed, but R. Eybeschuetz had nothing to do with them, and in any event the controversy focused on Berakhot as the other tractates simply printed the censored text from the earlier Basel edition, but did not add anything new.[15]
In his recent outstanding study of this episode, which makes use of manuscript sources, Pawel Maciejko writes:
In both academic scholarship and Jewish collective memory, the best-known controversies concerning Rabbi Jonathan Eibeschütz (1690-1764) are those about his kabbalistic tract Va-avo ha-yom el ha-‘ayin . . . and about the allegedly Sabbatean amulets that he distributed to the members of the communities of Metz and Altona, Hamburg, and Wandsbeck in the 1750s. However, during his early years, the most important controversy concerning Eibeschütz was not the dispute surrounding his suspected Sabbateanism and the heterodox writings attributed to him but rather the outrage engendered by his friendly relations with the local Catholic clergy and his alleged involvement in the publication of heavily censored editions of the Pentateuch, the Talmud, and the prayer book. In the eyes of many contemporaries, the damage caused by the appearance of these latter publications vastly overshadowed any harm stemming from the heretical views expressed in Eibeschütz’s kabbalistic works and amulets.[16]
Maciejko notes that R. Moses Hagiz was so outraged by R. Eybeschuetz’s Talmud that he asked other rabbis to issue a ruling that it be burnt!
Shortly after the publication of R. Eybeschuetz’s Talmud someone wrote a defense of it, explaining why it was necessary to print a censored Talmud.[17] Raphael Kirchheim, who published this document, cites another who states that its author was none other than R. Eybeschuetz, since the author refers to R. Abraham Broda as his teacher.[18] R. Broda had served as rosh yeshiva in Prague, and later rav of Metz and Frankfurt.
While Maciejko also accepts this view,[19] the reference to R. Broda as the author’s teacher, מורי ורבי, would appear to show that R. Eybeschuetz could not have written the letter, since he was not a student of R. Broda.
We have good information about R. Eybeschuetz’s life, but there still is a lot we don’t know. Even though R. Eybeschuetz is not recorded as R. Broda’s student in the standard biographies, one could claim that it is possible that he studied for a short time under him, and for some reason this fact was not known to the biographers.[20] Yet in this case we can indeed make the definitive statement that R. Eybeschuetz did not study with R. Broda since R. Eybeschuetz tells us this himself. Some thirty years after R. Broda’s death in 1717 his Eshel Avraham was published (Frankfurt, 1747). Here is the title page.
Among those who provided an approbation was R. Eybeschuetz, who at that time was in Metz. His respect for R. Broda is great, but he leaves no doubt that he never studied with him:
ממש רובי חכמי ישראל בדור הזה השלימי’ המה שותי מימיו ואף אני אם לא זכיתי לאורו לחזות לרבי מקמא כי בבואי לפראג שנת תע”ל כבר חמק דודי ופנה הודו לכאן ק”ק מיץ היא העיר אשר כעת אני יושב בה בתוך עמי, מ”מ נפתולי נפתלתי עם גדולי תלמידיו הרבני’ וחכמי’ מובהקים ושלימים במדע אשר נשארו שם ושמעתי’ תמיד בבי מדרשי’ בדיבוק חברי’
Returning to the document published by Kirchheim, it describes the history of the banning of the Talmud in the years before R. Eybeschuetz printed his volume. Interestingly, it tells about the confiscation of Jewish books from the Jews of Prague, which were then handed over to the Jesuits to be examined for anything against Christianity. From other sources we know that the Jesuits burnt the copies of the Talmud they confiscated, and “[i]n the 10 years from 1715 to 1725, very few copies (according to some sources, none) of the Talmud existed in Bohemia.”[21]
This need for copies of the Talmud explains why R. Eybeschuetz had to take the step he did. The document also tells of the punishment of a man from Nikolsburg who was caught smuggling Talmuds into the Prague ghetto. He was forced, in chains, to clean the streets for a year. The smuggled Talmuds were supposed to be burnt, but this was somehow prevented (probably with a good bribe).
The only way to print a Talmud in Prague was to remove everything the Jesuits viewed as offensive to Christianity. They also viewed certain aggadot as objectionable, such as the description of God wearing tefillin in Berakhot 6a, and these too had to be removed.[22] The document tells us that having the Church agree to publication of the Talmud, even with these restrictions, was regarded as a great achievement. It also tells us that all the important rabbis in Prague permitted the publication of the bowdlerized Talmud.[23]
וכאשר הגיעו לידינו רשימה אספנו להגאון מורנו ורבנו האב”ד ור”י נר”ו בצירוף כל חכמי רבינו [!] עירנו אשר ת”ל המה גדולים בחכמה ובמנין וטבעם יצא בכל ארץ לעיון במילין אם כשר ונאות לעשות כן אם לא ואחר הלנת דין פעמים ושלש ומשא ומתן עלתה הסכמה להדפיס מס’ ברכות הנודע הגהתן וסדר זרעים אשר לא יחסר בו דבר, אך ממסכת שבת והלאה לא עבר הסכמתן כי לא נודע עדיין טיב הגהות נוצרים בו אם מעט אם רב
The document then quotes a statement issued by the scholars of Prague defending their decision, a statement that was only intended to be viewed by other learned Jews. In justifying their decision to publish a censored Talmud – since this was all they were permitted and it was a censored Talmud or nothing – we find the following very interesting passage:[24]
ודאי שנכון הדבר לעשות לבלי כושל ועיכוב כלל כי ודאי שניתן הש”ס להצילו באחד מאיבריו ולא יהיה הש”ס חמור מג”ע וש”ד אשר ק”ל יהרג ואל יעבר קימו לן אם מיחדים על אחד ימסר להם ואל יהרגו וכ”ש הדבר בש”ס שבזמן שמיחדים לומר השמיטו דא מאתכם שיהא הנשאר לפליטה שישמיטו זאת ולא יצאו כולם לבית השריפה מבלי שריד באהלינו אהל תורה ובפרט כי חז”ל שיסדו התלמוד לא על זה יסדו להיותו בדפוס גלוי לכל עמים כי אם כתבוהו בכתיבה תמה ומסרו זאת לזרע אמונים להנחיל לבניהם אחריהם לחלקם ביעקב ולהפיץ בישראל.
The last sentence is making the point that there are certain things in the Talmud that should not be published for all to see, as these are the sorts of things that could create great problems with non-Jews. The Prague scholars then state that it is actually a good thing to cut out certain passages from the Talmud. In other words, they are acknowledging that even without Christian demands, it would be best in internally censor certain passages so as to prevent problems from arising. This is exactly what ArtScroll is doing today. No one is forcing them to self-censor, but they see matters as the sages of Prague who wrote (emphasis added)[25]:
וזה לערך ר’ שנה שהחל להתפשט ספרינו בדפוס לתקנות אחינו למען יהיו להם הספרים בנקל ומצוי, אמנם בדברים כאלו תקנתם קלקלתם שגורמים סכנה לכל ספריהם ומטילים איבת הנוצרים עלינו ודאי ראוים שדברים אלו יהיו חוזרים לאיתנם הראשון מבלי לחוקקם בעט ברזל ועופרת.
They are not saying that the censored matters should be forgotten about. Rather, they should be only be passed on in a non-published form (“Torah she-Ba’al Peh”) to advanced students who study the Talmud; they should not be put down in print for all to see and thus create a Christian backlash. The sages of Prague make the same point about strange Aggadot that are not to be taken literally and can only be understood by a few, and which have become subject to Christian mockery. These too should be omitted[26] להציל דברי חז”ל. When possible, the Prague sages state, one should not delete an entire passage but simply change certain words. In this way the sense of the passage is not changed for any learned person, but problematic words are removed thus helping to blunt anti-Semitic attacks:[27]
ומכ”ש לשנות הלשון במילות ושמות נרדפים באופן שלא ישתנה הענין פשיטא שמותר
The Prague sages then state that if necessary it is even permitted to alter (i.e., falsify) halakhic rulings that appear in the Talmud in order to prevent anti-Semitism (which obviously could lead to real danger). They note that R. Solomon Luria disagrees but that the accepted practice is not in accord with what he wrote, a point that was later made by R. Moses Feinstein:[28]
דעת מהרש”ל להחמיר אף במקום סכנה. אמנם מעשים בכל יום שמהפכין הדין ומשנין מדרכי השלום בהפקעת הלואה וכדומה ולא שמענו פוצה פה לעולם וכן נראה היפוכו בדברי מהר”ם רבק”ש בש”ע ח”מ סי תכ”ה ודברים המה מועתקים בספרים רבים.
It is interesting that the Prague sages quoted the famous words of R. Moses Rivkes in his commentary to Shulhan Arukh, Hoshen Mishpat 425:5, who responds to a particular anti-Gentile law as follows:
The Rabbis said this in relation to the pagans of their own times only, who worshipped stars and the constellations and did not believe in the Exodus or in creatio ex nihilo. But the people in whose shade we, the people of Israel, are exiled and amongst whom we are dispersed do in fact believe in creatio ex nihilo and in the Exodus and in the main principles of religion, and their whole aim and intent is to the Maker of heaven and earth, as the codifiers have written. .  . . So far, then from our not being forbidden to save them, we are on the contrary obliged to pray for their welfare.[29]
Some, such as Jacob Katz,[30] have seen R. Rivkes’ words as reflecting a new tolerant approach. However, the sages of Prague, who were closer to the time R. Rivkes lived, saw his words as merely designed for non-Jewish eyes and not to be taken seriously by Jews. R. Rivkes’ comment would therefore be no different than the declarations found at the beginning of many seforim that all negative statements about non-Jews are only directed towards pagans but have nothing to do with the Christians of Europe who worship God and allow the Jews to dwell among them.
Unlike what has been described by the Prague sages, Maciejko does not view the “corrections” in R. Eybeschuetz’s Talmud as simply defensive. He writes:
Eibeschütz believed that there was no final, fixed, and canonized text of the Talmud. . . . Eibeschütz put himself in the shoes of the ancient sages and saw himself not as expurgating but rather as creating the text of the Talmud.[31]
Maciejko further writes:
Eibeschütz seems to have been the only early modern Jewish author who believed that the talmudic sages needed to be edited for style. For themselves, such changes were only possible thanks to the editorial freedom Eibeschütz granted himself in his “Apology and Answer of the Rabbis Prague”: Eibeschütz considered the talmudic text open and unfinished and therefore felt free to “correct” it even in instances in which he experienced no external pressure from the church or from any other powerbrokers. As for the character of these changes, one thing can be said with certainty: most of them aimed to create a neater and simpler text of the Talmud, one that avoids intricate grammatical constructions or potentially misleading expressions.[32]
It is hard for me to accept that R. Eybeschuetz could have viewed himself as “updating” the Talmud. Yet Maciejko is correct that we are confronted with the fact that R. Eybeschuetz’s Talmud contains linguistic and stylistic changes that were not required by the censor. Unlike Maciejko, I would explain matters in the following way: Since the Talmud was already being published in a censored fashion, with numerous passages deleted or rewritten, R. Eybeschuetz saw no reason not to make other changes that would create a more user-friendly text. However, this has nothing to do with the talmudic text being “open and unfinished” as Maciejko puts it. It wasn’t that he was improving on the original Talmud or seeking to replace it, but since the Talmud he was publishing was already “damaged”, as it were, he did not see a problem making other changes if these changes could be of assistance to the reader. Furthermore, everyone who bought this Talmud knew that it was a she’at ha-dehak publication and that it was only to be used if one had no access to an uncensored text. I have no doubt that R. Eybeschuetz felt the exact same way, and thus I would need more evidence before accepting Maciejko’s theory.
Maciejko makes a further claim that R. Eybeschuetz’s “editing” of the Talmud hints to his secret universalist religious views that are also found in Va-Avo ha-Yom el ha-Ayin. This is a much more provocative claim than what I discussed in the previous paragraph, and I am curious as to what other scholars will have to say about it.
In addition to being given permission to print an expurgated Talmud, the non-Jewish authorities also permitted “strange” aggadic passages to remain if a good explanation could be provided for them. In R. Eybeschuetz’s edition of Berakhot such explanations are found at the back of the volume, and the reader is alerted to them by a note on the talmudic page.[33]
Until Hebrewbooks.org put the Prague edition of Berakhot online, it was a very rare book, and Maciejko knows of only three copies in existence.[34] In 1981 Professor Shnayer Leiman republished R. Eybeschuetz’s explanations to Berakhot.[35]
To be continued

 

[1] See also Jeremy Brown’s post here and regarding Brown’s post see David Zilberberg’s earlier post here.
[2] Only in the last year or so have I started to examine the ArtScroll Talmud on a regular basis and I am continuously impressed. This has to be one of the most significant Torah publications of the twentieth century. Since that is the case, I don’t see why such effort is being put into producing the new Koren Talmud. While it sometimes has points that do not appear in ArtScroll, I don’t know why anyone would prefer it over ArtScroll. I have had a chance to use both ArtScroll and Koren in reviewing some sugyot in Berakhot with my son, and in my mind ArtScroll always comes out on top. I even found one place where Soncino is to be preferred to Koren (although generally this is not the case). In Berakhot 29a it states: “Corresponding to what were these twenty-four blessings of the Amida prayer of the fast days instituted?” Unlike Soncino, Koren provides no note to this sentence and most people who read it will have no clue what it is talking about since when they look in the siddur they will not find twenty-four blessings in the Amidah on fast days (as they will assume that the fast days referred to are Yom Kippur, Tisha be-Av, etc.). ArtScroll helpfully explains as follows: “On certain public fast days decreed in times of drought, an additional six blessings, enumerated in the Mishnah in Taanis 15a, are added to the eighteen regular blessings of the Shemoneh Esrei, for a total of twenty-four blessings.” I would only add that the proper transliteration of עשרה is esreh, not esrei.
[3] See here where Chwat also posts a page of R. Hananel from the censored Sanhedrin 43a.
[4] See his letter in Moshe Chaim Ephraim Bloch, Heikhal le-Divrei Hazal u-Fitgameihem (New York, 1948), p. 8. For more opposition to publishing the censored talmudic texts, see Eliezer Zvi Zweifel, Saneigor (Warsaw, 1885), pp. 265-266
[5] (Los Angeles, 2014). Regarding the Sanhedrin 67a text, see Maciejko’s English introduction, pp. xlviii-xlix.
[6] P. xix.
[7] Perush ha-Torah (Johannesburg, 1950), p. 69.
[8] David Brodsky also discusses בית הרחם as a synonym for “va–na”. See A Bride Without a Blessing (Tübingen, 2006), pp. 55, 65, 84. In Alcalay’s English-Hebrew dictionary, s.v. va–na, it gives three Hebrew definitions, one of which is .בית הרחם
[9] Iggerot Moshe, Even ha-Ezer 1, no. 102. This appears in the second to last paragraph of the responsum. The last paragraph is where R. Moshe presents his famous view that living in the Land of Israel is not an obligatory mitzvah, a mitzvah hiyuvit, but rather a mitzvah kiyumit.Here is a good time to cite an email I received from a Lakewood scholar which I think is quite insightful, and relates to the “immodest” title pages I discuss in my recent book. This scholar writes:

There is one comment that I want to make right now regarding the pictures of the topless women that appeared and then disappeared in seforim. In addition to a point that I already once made that perhaps in earlier times the breasts were associated more with breastfeeding than with romance (it certainly was associated with that as well as can be seen from the Song of Songs, but not exclusively as today; perhaps it was more like a woman’s hair which can be seen in pictures), I would like to add a stronger point regarding these pictures.

It would seem to me that before photography when it wasn’t possible to produce real live looking pictures, people would be inclined to consider drawing an ערוה. But after the advent of real photographs, one gets the feeling that he is looking at a real image of a woman. It is for this reason, perhaps, that pictures of topless women became taboo. Once photographs began to be associated with ערוה, paintings and drawings followed since they are so similar to photographs. In other words, they became guilty by association.

If there is any merit to this argument (or speculation) then one can go a step further and say that the advent of color motion pictures which is more alive caused further stringency in this area. A picture of a woman is not that “problematic”, but to watch her video is already more like “mingling without a mechitza”. Once the women are struck from the videos, it is natural that they should be expunged from the magazines as well. It is worth noting that both the laws outlawing pornography and the invention of photography coincided with one another. It would seem that it wasn’t outlawed as long as it was only in the form of a drawing, painting, or sculpture.

While it is true that earlier sources do speak of the sexual nature of breasts (see my post here note 19), I think that my correspondent has put his finger on a very important point. It would appear that breasts were more commonly associated with breastfeeding which meant that it was not problematic to show them in pictures. We even find such a portrayal on two tombstones in the old Sephardic cemetery in Altona. Here are the pictures as they appear in Michael Studemund-Halevy and Gaby Zuern, Zerstoert die Erinnerung Nicht. Der Juedische Friedhof Koenigstrasse in Hamburg (Munich, 2002), p. 109.

There are also a whole series of paintings and sculptures showing the Virgin Mary breastfeeding, obviously showing that this was not regarded as immodest in Christian circles.

The non-sexual nature of breasts also explains Shabbat 13a:

 עולא כי הוי אתי מבי רב הוה מנשק להו לאחוותיה אבי חדייהו
(Perhaps because he found this text so strange, the Hatam Sofer interpreted it allegorically: היה מנשק החכמה. See Hiddushei Hatam Sofer, ad loc.)In response to the email from the Lakewood scholar, S. commented as follows

Another point which I think needs to be brought up about nude art is just how ubiquitous it was in Europe, statues, frescoes, and title pages in books, etc., very much influenced by Classical culture, which was of utmost importance in European learning and culture. If you’re in Venice or Prague or any major city in Europe you can’t avoid seeing it. The style of title pages may have changed, as styles do, so it is not surprising that Jewish printing culture changed as well. And eventually these seforim became one, two, and three centuries old and were only seen by individuals. Nudity in art was not ubiquitous in Eretz Yisrael and America, and it is not surprising that we woke up in the 20th century in American and EY and found these things surprising. My point is that it doesn’t necessarily have to do with them seeing breasts as sexual or not (what about thighs and bare midriffs? And seforim even depicted nude women bathing in the mikveh.) It is also important to note that in the writing of many great people they refer to specific editions they used, and it is clear that they saw it and neither defaced or said anything about it. So attitudes might be a European city vs. non-European city thing as well.

In an earlier post here I dealt with this picture which appears in the Venice 1574 edition of the Mishneh Torah.

Jacob D. called my attention to Shlomo Zalman Havlin’s comment in Yeshurun 29 (2013), p. 791 n. 7. Here Havlin states that when he attended the Chevron yeshiva its library had the Venice 1574 Mishneh Torah, but the yeshiva attempted to keep this edition from students due to the “immodest” picture reproduced above. Havlin also notes that some great rabbis were involved in the publication of this edition of the Mishneh Torah, including R. Menahem Azariah of Fano and R. Moses Provencal.

[10] Meiri to Avodah Zarah p. 4.

[11] Meiri to Avodah Zarah p. 4, Ta’anit 27b (p. 97). Regarding Meiri’s claim, see Lawrence Zalcman, “Christians, Noserim, and Nebuchadnezzar’s Daughter,” JQR 81 (1991), pp. 411-426. Zalcman argues that Meiri did not just make up his interpretation for apologetic reasons, but was aware of Mandaeans who were known as natzurai and were linked to Nebuchadnezzar.
[12] See Dikdukei Soferim ha-Shalem, ad loc.
[13] The Talmud pages used by ArtScroll in its most recent printings are taken from Oz ve-Hadar’s edition (minus certain notes that appear only in the Oz ve-Hadar Talmuds). This means that ArtScroll omits the Shitah Mekubetzet, citing Meiri’s and R. Jonathan of Lunel’s tolerant comments, which appears in the standard Vilna edition, Bava Kamma 38a and 113a.
[14] Hit’avkut, p. 2a.
[15] See R. Raphael Rabbinovics, Ma’amar al Hadpasat ha-Talmud, ed. Haberman (Jerusalem, 1952), pp.112ff.; David Leib Zuenz, Gedulat Yehonatan (Petrokov, 1930), vol. 1, pp. 12ff.
[16] “The Rabbi and the Jesuit” On Rabbi Jonathan Eibeschütz and Father Franciscus Haselbauer Editing the Talmud,” Jewish Social Studies 10 (Winter 2014), pp. 147-148.
[17] The defense was published in installments in Ha-Magid, May 9, 16, 23, 30, 1877. Sections of the document appear in  Zweifel, Saneigor, pp. 264-265, and in Saul Pinchas Rabinowitz’s edition of H. Graetz, Divrei Yemei Yisrael, vol. 8, p. 464 in the note. The complete document was published in Zuenz, Gedulat Yehonatan, pp. 135ff., but he does not identify its source, leading the reader to assume that he is quoting from a manuscript.
[18] See Ha-Magid, May 9, 1877, pp. 170-171. (The reference to R. Broda as his teacher appears on p. 171.) As we shall see, R. Eybeschuetz had a great deal of respect for R. Broda. Yet R. Jacob Emden’s father, the Hakham Zvi, had a different perspective. See Yehezkel Duckesz, Ivah le-Moshav (Cracow, 1903), p. 14.
[19] “The Rabbi and the Jesuit,” p. 166.
[20] S. points out an interesting source which gives an unknown, but presumably true, biographical detail of R. Eybeschuetz’s life in the spiritual autobiography of an apostate Jew named Salomon Duitsch, A Short Account of the Wonderful Conversion to Christianity of Solomon Duitsch … Extracted from the Original Published in the Dutch Language (London 1771).S. wrote to me as follows:

Prone to mystical visions and ascetic practices like fasting, he was regarded locally as a tzadik, but he eventually became convinced of Christianity. When this became known was forced to divorce his wife. After a period of wandering he ended up in Altona. He still looked Jewish and his issues were unknown there. He writes of meeting and staying the night at R. Eybeschuetz, who was very delighted to host him on account that R. Eybeschuetz was educated and taken care of as an orphan in the house of his great-grandfather in Nikolsburg. This information about a Nikolsburg period in R. Eybeschuetz’s life, and who this great-grandfather might be, is not mentioned in the biographies, and is a reminder that much information about people’s lives is not necessarily in books.

[21] Maciejko, p. 150.
[22] For details see ibid., pp. 169ff.
[23] Ha-Magid, May 16, 1874, p. 180.
[24] Ibid., May 23, p. 188.
[25] Ibid.
[26] Ibid., May 30, 1877, p. 199.
[27] Ibid. In my post here I discussed how R. Jehiel Michel Epstein engaged in self-censorship in the Arukh ha-Shulhan in order not to have problems with the non-Jewish authorities. Rabbi Shalom Baum called my attention to Arukh ha Shulhan, Orah Hayyim 480:1, for another example of this. I have underlined the words which any educated reader would understand were not to be taken seriously (since how could contemporary Jews ask God to pour out his wrath on the Babylonians who departed the historical stage over two thousand years ago?):
ואחר ששתו הכוס השלישי נוהגין לומר שפוך חמתך וגו’ ולפתוח הדלת כדי לזכור שהוא ליל שמורים ובזכות אמונה זו יבא משיח וישפוך חמתו על הבבליים שחרבו בהמק
[28] Ha-Magid, May 30, 1877, p. 199. Regarding the views of R. Luria and R. Feinstein, see my Changing the Immutable, p. 42.
[29] I have used the translation in Jacob Katz, Exclusiveness and Tolerance (Oxford, 1961), p. 165.
[30] Ibid., pp. 164ff.
[31] “The Rabbi and the Jesuit,” p. 167.
[32] Ibid., pp. 173-174.
[33] I don’t know why this procedure was not required for the other tractates published in Prague.
[34] “The Rabbi and the Jesuit,” p. 179
[35] Or ha-Mizrah 29 (1981), pp. 418-428. Leiman’s publication remains valuable because of his introduction and notes.



Truth be Told[1] Comments on Changing the Immutable: How Orthodox Judaism Rewrites its History by Marc B. Shapiro

Truth be Told[1] 
by Aryeh A. Frimer*
Comments on Changing the ImmutableHow Orthodox Judaism Rewrites its History by Marc B. Shapiro (Oxford – Portland, OR: The Littman Library of Jewish Civilization, 2015).
*Rabbi Prof. Aryeh A. Frimer holds the Ethel and David Resnick Chair of Active Oxygen Chemistry at Bar Ilan University, Ramat Gan 5290002, Israel; email: Aryeh.Frimer@biu.ac.il. He has lectured and published widely on various aspects of “Women and Halakha;” see here. His most recent paper is: “Women, Kri’at haTorah and Aliyyot (with an Addendum on Partnership Minyanim),” Aryeh A. Frimer and Dov I. Frimer, Tradition, 46:4 (Winter, 2013), 67-238, available online here.
            I found R. Prof. Marc Shapiro’s new book Changing the Immutable a fascinating read and very hard to put down. The first seven chapters deal with censorship of halakhic and philosophical works, while the eighth focuses on lying and misrepresentation in pesak. As we know from his previous works, Shapiro has a very fluid writing style and the subject matter is always well researched. He does his best to be honest, unbiased and complete in his presentation. He is, moreover, intrigued with exploring the limits of the traditional consensus, which makes for some captivating reading. Yet, despite all these wonderful qualities – or perhaps, because of them, I found the present volume particularly unsettling and disconcerting.
R. Jacob J Schacter’s classic article “Facing the Truths of History” had already sensitized me to the fact that publishers censor and even rewrite portions of the books they bring to press.[2] They do so because they find some of their author’s positions “unacceptable” – views which don’t fit the publishers’ or the intended reader’s “party line.” That such censorship continues unabashedly in the 21st century is disappointing, but then “there is no shame anymore.” But these are, by and large, sins of omission; somehow, with that I could live.
            But what I found particularly troubling with Changing the Immutable was the last chapter, which deals with lying in pesak. After going through the many examples Shapiro cites, the reader is left with one clear impression. One sometimes needs to be careful about trusting a Posek, since he may well be misrepresenting something in his ruling. It could be the source and authority of the prohibition. For example, is the prohibition based on a biblical commandment (positive or negative), rabbinic edict, custom or mere public policy (slippery slope) considerations? Alternatively, the expressed reason may not be the real grounds for the prohibition. In addition, the application may be much broader than halakhically permitted. To my mind these are shocking revelations: these are not sins of omission but commission; the perpetrators are scholars and religious leaders; and these deviations constitute intellectual dishonesty at its worst.
Our author is not insensitive to this dissonance. In an attempt to explain how these scholars justify not being fully honest in pesak, Shapiro writes in the last two pages of the book (pp. 284-285) about “redefining truth.” He indicates that these decisors see nothing wrong in what they are doing, since their ultimate goal is the “higher good”. As they see it, they have ultimately prevented their respective communities and congregants from sinning and deviating from the proper path of shemirat mitsvot. The fact that these scholars have bent the truth, and distorted Jewish law in the process, is of lesser importance. The ends in these cases, justify the means.
It is with these jarring observations that the book comes to an abrupt end, without any further comment or soul-searching. This is despite the fact that on page 239ff, Shapiro brings one citation from Hazal after another about the centrality of truth, and the seriousness of the sin of lying. After all, the Torah itself commands us: “mi-Devar sheker tirhak” – “From untruthfulness, distance thyself” (Exodus 23:7). If what the author writes in the last chapter is true, then Hazal’s eloquent statements about the importance of honesty have become nothing but a mockery. It raises serious moral questions with insufficient and unsatisfying answers. How are we now supposed to educate our children and talmidim as to the cardinal nature of truth and truthfulness?! How are we to live with such a clash between theory and practice?
In the course of our own study of Women’s Tefilla Groups, my brother R. Prof. Dov Frimer and I researched misrepresentation in pesak in the context of women’s issues.[3] Many leading Rabbis were deeply and justifiably concerned that some of the feminist practices introduced were ultimately “bad for the Jews” on public policy grounds.[4] But instead of saying so clearly, some rabbis adduced reasons that were not halakhically sound. Our own research has led us to the clear conclusion that the vast majority of the gedolim do not condone this type of misrepresentation or that discussed in the last chapter of Changing the Immutable. Giving an erroneous ruling – despite one’s good intentions, or even misstating the reason or source for a prohibition, violates the prohibition “mi-Devar sheker tirhak“, if not a variety of other issurim.
We begin our discussion of this issue with the famous Pesak Din (halakhic ruling) promulgated by a conference of rabbis who met in Michalowce Hungary in 1865. This edict initially signed by twenty-five leading rabbinic figures and subsequently by many more, ruled that nine practices (including, inter alia, synagogue choirs, sermons in the vernacular, synagogues weddings, absence of a central bima, canonical robes for the Hazan) were halakhically forbidden. Leading rabbis Moses Schick and Esriel Hildesheimer and many of their colleagues refused to sign. The fundamental claim of Rabbis Schick and Hildesheimer was that, contrary to the impression given by the Pesak Din, the only grounds for some of the edicts were public policy (mi-gdar milta) – not halakhic – considerations.[5] The term “Pesak Din” (legal ruling) was in fact a conscious misnomer, an attempt to hide the truth, and, hence, a flagrant deviation from Jewish law with which they could take no part. R. Schick also argued that, since the Pesak Din was promulgated by a Jewish court, it violated bal tosif, adding a mitsva to the Torah.[6]
Similarly, R. Zvi Hirsch Chajes[7] argues that it is forbidden to call a rabbinic edict a biblical prohibition because it violates not only bal tosif but also mi-devar sheker tirhak. Similarly, R. Chayim Hirschensohn[8] charges those rabbis who forbid women to become involved in politics with violating both bal tosif and lying. R. Chaim Soloveitchik of Brisk[9], maintains that both Ra’avad and Rambam agree that “mi-devar sheker tirhak” forbids a posek from claiming that a rabbinic injunction is biblical. R. Jacob Israel Kanievsky,[10] refuting the suggestion that it is forbidden to take part in elections in the secular State of Israel, writes: “…And your Honor should know that even to be zealous, it is forbidden to teach Torah not according to the halakha (Avot V:8), and that which is not true will not succeed at all.” R. Haim David Halevi[11] prohibits a posek from misrepresenting halakha and/or giving an erroneous reason for a prohibition for two basic reasons: (1) the biblical prohibition of “mi-devar sheker tirhak” and (2) a total loss of trust in rabbinic authority would result should the truth become known (see more below). [See also the related opinions of Rabbis Ehrenberg, Rogeler and Sobel cited below.]
As Prof. Shapiro documents in Changing the Immutable, some posekim dissent. They argued, on various grounds, that “mi-devar sheker tirhak” is not applicable to cases where halakha is misrepresented so as to prevent future violations of Jewish law. Other scholars argue that the dispensation to modify the truth in order to maintain peace (me-shanim mi-penei ha-shalomYevamot 65b) also applies to misrepresenting halakha in order to maintain peace between kelal Yisrael and the Almighty. Yet others maintain that if a posek believes an action should be prohibited because of mi-gdar milta, he may misrepresent the reason for or source of a prohibition; since there will be no change in the legal outcome, mi-devar sheker tirhak does not apply.[12] Finally, some have argued that mi-devar sheker tirhak only refers to lying in court.[13]
But these arguments have been seriously and vigorously challenged. Thus, R. Joshua Menahem Mendel Ehrenberg[14] demonstrates that the consensus of posekim – rishonim and aharonim – is that mi-devar sheker tirhak applies in all cases, inside court and out. R. Ehrenberg further argues that this is true even if it is intended to promote a religious purpose (ve-afilu li-devar mitsva). Similarly, R. Elijah [ben Samuel] of Lublin[15] chastises a colleague for lying in a decision, even though his intentions were noble. R. Ovadiah Yosef[16] discusses at length whether a judge, maintaining a minority position on a three judge panel, can lie and say “I do not know what to rule,” – so that two more judges will be added to the panel and his minority opinion will have a chance to become the majority view; he concludes that it is forbidden. R. Solomon Sobel[17] explicitly states that me-shanim mi-penei ha-shalom only allows one to change the facts, not the halakha. Both R. Jacob Ettlinger and R. Reuben Margaliot[18] maintain that me-shanim mi-penei ha-shalom allows one only to obfuscate by using language which can be understood in different ways, but not to lie; hence, misrepresenting halakhic reasons or sources would also be forbidden.
Also unmentioned is the long list of posekim (including the Radba”z)[19] who maintain that even if one is theoretically permitted to misrepresent Halakha, under certain unique circumstances – one is nevertheless forbidden to do so in practice. This is because “the truth will out.”   Not only will this revelation ultimately lead to a terrible hillul Hashem, but it will undermine peoples’ trust in the rabbinic establishment. In this regard R. Benjamin Lau has observed:[20]
The rabbi is expected to know and present the various aspects of each issue and not to conceal those aspects that are inconsistent with his own point of view. If a rabbi is untrue to the sources and reaches his decision without taking account of conflicting views, he will be seen to be untrustworthy. And a lack of trust between a rabbi and his community of questioners will drive a wedge between that community and the Torah overall. Stating the truth, of course, does not require the decisor to remain neutral; his role requires him to reach a decision one way or the other. But the decision must be reached through disclosure, not concealment, of the alternatives….. Now, when everyone has access to the [Bar Ilan] Responsa Project data base and Google provides answers to all imaginable questions, everyone can check every responsum and examine its trustworthiness. A rabbi who rules in an oversimplified way, whether strictly or leniently, in a area of halakhic complexity will be caught as untrustworthy.
Having lived through the crises and confrontations of women’s prayer groups, women on religious councils, women in communal leadership roles and women’s aliyyot – I can testify that there is great need for both in-depth knowledge and truthfulness. The “hillul Hashem and loss of trust” argument is not just hype – but painfully all too accurate! Many of the rabbis in the 1970s lost control of the religious leadership of their communities because they were unprepared or unwilling to deal with the challenges honestly and head on. Many rabbis simply tried to stonewall the situation, while others were not forthright about the real reason for forbidding such practices. As previously noted, the Rabbis may well have been correct that many of the feminist practices introduced were halakhically unsound or “bad for the Jews” on a variety of public policy grounds.[21] But instead of saying so clearly (as Rav Joseph B. Soloveitchik zt”l had urged and himself practiced), some rabbis waffled, while others prevaricated. But the halakhic truth quickly became known – a consequence of the “information age.” And as a result, many balebatim lost trust in the religious leadership as a whole. For them the conclusion was simply: “Everything boils down to politics.” 
            It is, therefore, critically important to reiterate that the cases cited by our author, exemplify neither pesak in general, nor the consensus view of the posekim. It is forbidden to misrepresent in halakhic rulings as a matter of law and policy.  In essence, then, Prof Shapiro’s scholarly and well-documented book presents the reader with a most fascinating review of an approach within halakhic decision making, which has been rejected by mainstream pesak. Indeed, such cases need to be actively addressed if they are to be uprooted.
Response by Marc B. Shapiro
I understand why Professor Frimer is troubled by what I wrote, and to a large extent my conclusions diverge from his own. All I would say is that the matter is complex, and rather than attempt to simplify matters, as I feel Frimer has done, we must attempt to understand how the same Sages who spoke about the importance of truth could at times countenance departure from it. This is a challenge that requires sensitivity and nuance, and appreciation of changing times and values. When Frimer sees a text that permits false attribution, he sees prevarication and hypocrisy. But a historically attuned outlook would seek to understand rather than condemn. Ironically, it is Frimer who is judging the Sages and decisors, because if their ideas do not conform to his understanding then these ideas are regarded by him as problematic.
Thus, Frimer cites the famous 1865 pesak din of Michalowce and tells us that R. Moses Schick and R. Esriel Hildesheimer opposed it since they saw it as departing from the truth. While their position is certainly significant, what about the fact that among Hungarian rabbis they were a minority, and most of the leading Hungarian rabbis supported the pesak? How is my argument refuted by citing Rabbis Schick and Hildesheimer if they were opposed by most of their colleagues? Doesn’t the fact that most of the Hungarian rabbis opposed Rabbis Schick and Hildesheimer support my position? 
As for the various rabbinic opinions cited by Frimer, I don’t deny that these opinions exist, and in my book I refer to Frimer’s famous article on women’s prayer groups in which he cites these opinions. But I also make the point that there is an alternative tradition which allows much more leeway for authorities to at times diverge from the truth. I also believe, contrary to Frimer, that this is a mainstream position. Since this position is held by R. Ovadiah Yosef and R. Hayyim Kanievsky, I don’t see how it is possible for one to state that it is not a mainstream position.
The point of the chapter, however, was not to advocate for one position or the other, but to focus on the alternative tradition, the existence of which is more or less suppressed today. I was explicit that my aim was to show how far some were willing to go in sanctioning deviations from the truth, and I indicate that there are views in opposition to these. However, my intent was to study the views of those with a “liberal” perspective on the importance of truth. It is this tradition that I wished to explore, and to rescue it, as it were, from the well-intentioned apologetics. I never state that this is the only authentic position. On the contrary, one can find the opposite perspective presented in numerous articles. This is why I thought it was important to present alternative views, from the Talmud until the present, views which I think show that there is a rabbinic conception of the Noble Lie.
I also must dispute the following statement by Frimer: “R. Joshua Menahem Mendel Ehrenberg demonstrates that the consensus of posekim – rishonim and aharonim – is that mi-devar sheker tirhak applies in all cases, inside court and out. R. Ehrenberg further argues that this is true even if it is intended to promote a religious purpose.” How can Frimer state that R. Ehrenberg “demonstrates” such a thing? What R. Ehrenberg does is present an argument, and everyone can evaluate its cogency. The fact is that numerous authorities do not accept R. Ehrenberg’s position, which means that they would not agree that he has proven his case.
To Frimer, and others like him who have the same reaction after reading chapter 7, I can only say that modern views of how to understand texts, and what we today regard as truth, cannot be used as a measure with which to judge people who lived in a very different time and had a very different understanding of these sorts of matters. It is their understanding that I seek to explore, rather than foisting my own value judgments upon them. Unlike Frimer, who is involved in halakhic writing and attempting to influence the community in religious matters, I write from a more “objective” perspective, without such concerns. As such, while Frimer wishes to “uproot” what he regards as unacceptable views of certain poskim. I seek to understand the phenomenon and to describe it.
When, on p. 284, I speak about redefining truth, I am not speaking about poskim per se but about how to understand the entire phenomenon that I have documented in the book. The question is how does the importance of truth coexist with what we have seen, and it is in this context that I discuss how truth need not be seen as equivalent to factual or historical truth.
I agree with Frimer that none of the great poskim supported lying in pesak as a normative option on a regular basis. Yet as I have already indicated,  I believe that there is a tradition that allows for not being frank at certain times, when it is thought that other values are at stake. In the book I state that we should understand this position in a sympathetic fashion even if it is at odds with how today we generally approach matters.
Frimer asks how are we supposed to educate our children and students as to the importance of truth and truthfulness if what I say is correct. This is a good question with which educators need to struggle, but it is not a refutation of what I have written. If my position is correct, the world will not collapse. It will just be one more Torah matter, alongside Amalek, yefat toar, slavery, homosexuality, etc., that at certain times is not in line with contemporary values.
Here are some more comments relevant to the issue of truth.
1. Amichai Markowitz called my attention to a talmudic text that I overlooked. Nedarim 23b states: “The Tanna has intentionally obscured the law, in order that vows should not be lightly treated.” This relates to the issue of the truth not being made available to all. See also Kovetz Iggerot Hazon Ish, vol. 2, no. 78, that one should not reveal to the masses that the Sages forbade things that the Torah permitted.[22]
2. R. Joseph Ibn Caspi writes that at times it is appropriate for members of the intellectual elite to lie.[23] This explains how Joseph lied to his brothers when he accused them of being spies (Gen. 42:9). In support of this view Ibn Caspi cites both Maimonides and Aristotle.[24] The mention of Maimonides no doubt refers to the latter’s notion of “necessary beliefs”, but it is not clear where Ibn Caspi got his quote from Aristotle, since as far as I can determine Aristotle says no such thing.[25]
3. R. Abraham Arbel writes as follows[26]:
ואם מצא לנכון המגדל עז לשבח חכם כהרמב”ם שלא שקר והיה אמיתי, משמע דפשיטא ליה שגם אצל חכם בדרגתו אפשר למצוא שישקר משום כבודו.
R. Arbel also adds the following passage which I am sure will be very troubling to Frimer (as Frimer rejects the notion that “one sometimes needs to be careful about trusting a Posek”). R. Arbel’s words should be understood in line with the many sources I cite in the last chapter of my book.
וע”ע טהרת ישראל (סי’ קפה אות סו) בדין אשה שאמרה שהחכם טהר לה הכתם ועתה מכחיש אותה החכם לומר שלא שאלה אותו, דחישינן שהחכם רואה עתה שטעה שטהר, ובוש לומר שטעה, ולכן משקר עתה לומר שלא שאלה אותו. וכ”כ בהפלאה (קונ’ אחרון סי קטו סק”א( שהחכם לא נאמן להכחיש אשה, שאומרת שהחכם טהר, כשהכתם לפנינו והוא טמא, שהרי הוא נוגע בדבר שהרי טעה.
4. R. Ovadiah Yosef stated that if X tells you something he wrote, you can tell others that you read it in X’s book, and this is not considered a lie.[27]
5. In Changing the Immutable, p. 253, I cite a passage from Devarim Rabbah which states that for the sake of peace, even “Scripture itself” recorded something false. I should have also cited Midrash Tanhuma 96:7, which is even more striking, attributing the falsehood directly to God (as opposed to merely speaking of “Scripture”):
ארשב”ג גדול הוא השלום שהכתיב [שכתב] הקב”ה דברים בתורה שלא היו אלא בשביל השלום.
6. Let me offer another example of censorship in halakhic matters, the sort of thing that Frimer claims must be battled against and “uprooted” for the sake of Torah truth.[28] Here is page 141 from R. Yitzhak Zilberstein’s and R. Moshe Rothschild’s Torat ha-Yoledet.

The matter dealt with is whether a husband can be in the delivery room. The authors quote the opinion that if there is a need the husband can be in the room. In note 2, R. Moshe Feinstein, Iggerot Moshe, Yoreh Deah II, no. 75, is quoted as follows:
הנה אם יש צורך, איני רואה איסור. אבל אסור לו להסתכל ביציאת הולד ממש . . .
However, if you look at the actual text of Iggerot Moshe, what he says is something different.
הנה אם יש צורך איני רואה איסור ואף בלא צורך איני רואה איסור, אבל אסור לו להסתכל ביציאת הולד ממש . . .
I have underlined the words that are deleted by Torat ha-Yoledet. This deletion allows them to present R. Moshe Feinstein as saying that only if there is a need for the husband to be in the room can be there. Yet R. Moshe explicitly states that even if there is no “need”, he can still remain with his wife.

I know that there are some who are thinking that I am making a big deal out of nothing, and that it must have been an accident that the words were deleted as that no one would dare to purposely alter what R. Moshe wrote. I am sorry to say that this is not the case. Here are two pages from R. Pesach Eliyahu Falk’s Levushah shel Torah.[29]

From it we see that someone asked R. Zilberstein about the words that were deleted, and R. Zilberstein did not say that they were deleted in error. On the contrary, he tells the questioner that the words were deleted on purpose, after consultation with “gedolei ha-poskim”. In other words, these poskim disagreed with R. Moshe and therefore instructed R. Zilberstein that when he quoted Iggerot Moshe he should censor R. Moshe’s words so that people should not learn the extent of R. Moshe’s lenient view. After all that I have written in my book, I don’t think people will be surprised by this. Frimer, however, who has assured us that this sort of thing is not “mainstream”, and indeed is “forbidden”, will have to explain how it is that a respected posek like R. Zilberstein, acting on the instruction of other great poskim, could adopt such an approach, an approach which stands as a refutation of Frimer’s point.
As I have said already, I am not claiming that this sort of distortion is an everyday phenomenon. But I do claim that many poskim believe that they have the authority to alter the truth when they think that this is necessary. We can’t pretend that the texts I have cited don’t exist.
7. In his post Frimer writes: “R. Elijah [ben Samuel] of Lublin  chastises a colleague for lying in a decision, even though his intentions were noble.” I don’t think the word “chastises” is appropriate in this case. R. Elijah disagrees with the other rabbi, but the disagreement is not strident. For example, R. Elijah writes as follows in Yad Eliyahu, no. 62:
ע”ד אשר האריך רום מעלתו בלשונו בשפת אמת להעמיד שפת שקר במקומי אני עומד שאינו כדאי להיות רגיל בכך ואף שמותר בו מאיזה טעם שיהיה.
8. In the next issue of Masorah le-Yosef my article on “necessary beliefs” will appear. In this article I discuss how Maimonides and other figures say things that do not reflect their true opinion, but are merely “necessary beliefs”, i.e., “beliefs” that the masses should accept but which are not really true at all. If these authorities think that the masses can be fed false ideas when it comes to theology, why should halakhah be any different?

9. See R. Mordechai Eliasburg, Shevil ha-Zahav (Warsaw, 1897), p. 27-28, who claims that both Nahmanides and R. Jacob Emden recorded things in their writings that they did not really believe.

10. R. Chaim Sunitzky called my attention to R. Israel Weltz, Divrei Yisrael, vol. 3, no. 170, who doesn’t see such a problem with false stories if they lead people in a good direction.

.אין זה נורא כ”כ בספורי מעשיות כאלה כשהכוונה היא לטובה ללמוד ממנה מוסר ודרכי הי”ת
And now for some comic relief. A few weeks ago Ezra Glinter reviewed my book for the Forward. See here.
He used this opportunity to take some hits at the haredi world, focusing on matters that are not mentioned in the book. Rabbi Avi Shafran, who is paid to respond to this sort of thing, penned his own piece for the Forward available here.
The comedy starts in the first two paragraphs which read:
Psst! I’ve got a secret to share. It’s from deep inside the Orthodox Jewish world. Come closer… Okay, here it is: Orthodoxy changes!
It’s not much of a secret, actually. At least in these here parts. But it seems to be an unfamiliar concept for Marc Shapiro, a University of Scranton professor and author of the recent book, “Changing the Immutable: How Orthodox Judaism Rewrites Its History.”
It is obvious that Shafran has never even looked at my book and is only basing his comments on what appears in Glinter’s review. Those who have read the book know that a major theme of it is precisely how Orthodoxy changes. In fact, there is no one in the world today whose scholarship is more associated with the thesis that Orthodoxy changes than me. Much of the criticism of me is on precisely this point, that I have exaggerated the amount of change. Yet here Shafran comes and says that I am ignorant about how Orthodoxy changes. This is what I mean by comic relief.
Shafran then writes:
If a biography of Bertrand Russell can choose to elide the great philosopher’s serial marital infidelities and not be accused of rewriting the past, a hagiography of a great rabbi should certainly be permitted to overlook judgments he made with the best of intentions that in retrospect might seem misguided to some today. Such acts of civility are at times portrayed as scandalous by Shapiro and his reviewer.
A biography of Russel that chooses to omit his marital infidelities would indeed be rightly accused of rewriting the past. As for the second part of the sentence, I agree that a hagiography can leave out material of the sort Shafran mentions, but that is because it is a hagiography! If it intended to be a biography, then no, it cannot overlook mistaken judgments made by the subject, or else it ceases to be biography. I also do not think that it is an act of civility to refrain from writing about such mistaken judgments (as for example, R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg’s early misjudgment of the Nazi regime).
Shafran provides a few examples of how practice in Orthodoxy has changed, none of which I disagree with. But then again, my book has nothing to do with this. He writes:
One opinion in the Talmud, for example, permits fowl and milk to be cooked together and eaten. Just try ordering milk-braised chicken in your local kosher eatery these days; they’ll sic the mashgiach on you in a Borough Park moment. Men using mirrors was once forbidden as a “womanly” act, a once-true assessment that, for most Orthodox men today, is no longer considered applicable.
Let us say that a new edition of the Talmud was published that deleted the lines that tell us that one opinion permitted fowl and milk to be cooked and eaten together? Would Shafran be OK with this? I assume not, and it is thus unfortunate that he doesn’t know that it is precisely this sort of censorship that my book is focused on. What we have here is not only criticism without having read the book, but criticism without having any clue as to what the book is about. 
And then, to top off the comic relief, Shafran ends his piece as follows:

“Why is that so hard for Orthodoxy’s critics to understand?”

I have been called some different things in my life, but this is the first time I have been referred to as one of “Orthodoxy’s critics”.

Let me also add that Changing the Immutable has sold very well in the haredi world, and this is not surprising since it is not an anti-haredi book at all.

[1] AAF would like to thank Dov I. Frimer, Shael I. Frimer, David A. Kessler and Joel B. Wolowelsky for their insightful comments and suggestions on previous drafts.
[2] R. Jacob J. Schacter, “Facing the Truths of History,” Torah u-Madda Journal, 8 [1998-1999]: pp. 200-273.
[3] Aryeh A. Frimer and Dov I. Frimer, “Women’s Prayer Services: Theory and Practice. Part 1 – Theory,” Tradition, 32:2 (Winter 1998), pp. 5-118. PDF available online
here. See in particular Addendum, part 6.
[4] See our discussion in Frimer and Frimer, supra note 3, Section E therein.
[5] R. Moses Schick in Likutei Teshuvot Hatam Sofer, R. Israel Stern, ed. (London, 1965), sec. 82, pp. 73-75; Meir Hildesheimer, “She’eilot u-Teshuvot Maharam Schick,” Tsefunot, 2:2(6) (Tevet 5750), pp. 87-95, at p. 93; Yona Emanuel, “Me’a Shana lePetirat haRav Azriel Hildesheimer Zatsal,” haMa’ayn, XXXIX, 4 (Tammuz 5759), pp. 1-7, “Al Kinus haRabbanim be-Mikhalovitch” pp. 2-4; Michael K. Silber, “The Emergence of Ultra-Orthodoxy: The Invention of a Tradition,” In The Uses of Tradition, Jack Wertheimer, ed. (New York, Jewish Theological Seminary, 1992), p. 23-84; Mordechai Eliav, “Mekomo shel Rav Azriel Hildesheimer be-Ma’avak al Demutah shel Yahadutr Hungariah,” Zion 27 (1962), 59-86; Nethanel Katzburg, “Pesak Din shel Michalovitch 5726,” in Perakim be-Toldot ha-Hevrah ha-Yehudit be-Yemei ha-Beinayim u-be-Et ha-Hadashah, Emanuel Etkes and Yosef Salmon, eds. (Jerusalem: Magnes, 1980), 273-286; Jacob Katz, The Unhealed Breach: The Secession of Orthodox Jewry from the General Community in Hungary and Germany (Hebrew), Jerusalem, 1994 – see especially Chapter 8.
[6] See Frimer and Frimer, supra note 3, Addendum, part 5.
[7]  R. Zvi Hirsch Chajes, Darkei Hora’asiman 6, first footnote,
[8]  R. Chayim Hirschensohn Resp. Malki baKodesh, II, sec. 4, p. 13.
[9] Cited in R. Zvi [Hershel] Schachter, Nefesh haRav (Jerusalem: Reishit Yerushalayyim, 1994), p.178.
[10] R. Jacob Israel Kanievsky, Keraina deIggarta, letter 203, pp. 219-220.
[11] Responsum to Aryeh A. Frimer, dated 7 Shevat 5756 and published in RespMayyim Hayyim, III, sec. 55.
[12] R. Chaim Kanievsky, Masekhet Kutim, 1:14, Me-taher, note 30, and conversation with Aryeh A. Frimer (February 20, 1995),
[13] R. Zelig Epstein, in a conversation with Aryeh A. Frimer and Noach Dear (March 8, 1996). R. Jerucham Fishel Perlau, Commentary to Rav Sa’adia Gaon’s Sefer HaMitzvot, I, p. 156b.
[14] R. Joshua Menahem Mendel Ehrenberg, Resp. Devar Yehoshua, I, addendum to sec. 19, no. 6 (see also V, Y.D. sec 12). See also R. Nahum Yavruv, Niv Sefatayyim (Jerusalem, 1989) Niv Sefatayyim, kelal 1; R. Eliezer Judah Waldenberg, Resp. Tsits Eliezer 15:12:2.
[15] R. Elijah Rogeler, Resp. Yad Eliyahu, sec. 61 and 62
[16] R. Ovadiah Yosef, Resp. Yabia Omer, II, H.M., sec. 3
[17] R. Solomon Sobel, Salma Hadasha, Mahadura Tinyana, Haftarat Toledot; cited in R. Jacob Yehizkiyah Fisch, Titen Emet leYa’akov (Jerusalem, 1982), sec. 5, no. 36.
[18] R. Jacob Ettlinger, Arukh leNer, Yevamot 65b, s.v. she-Ne’emar avikha tsiva” and “Ko tomeru leYosef,” and R. Reuben Margaliot, Kunteres Hasdei Olam, sec. 1061, at the end of his edition of Sefer Hasidim (Mossad haRav Kook: Jerusalem, 5724). See also R. Moses David Maccabbi Leventhal, “Shinui beDevar haShalom,” Zohar, 3 (Spring 5760), pp. 49-64.
[19] R. Yehuda Herzl Henkin, Resp. Benei Vanim, I, sec. 37, no. 12, argues that such misrepresentation most often results in gossip, hate, unlawful leniencies in other areas, hillul Hashem, and a total loss of trust in rabbinic authority should the truth become known. (This despite the fact that R. Y.H. Henkin maintains that when a posek upgrades a prohibition for a just cause, there is no prohibition of either bal Tosif or lying). Similar views are expressed by Resp. Torah liShma, sec. 371; R. Moses Jehiel Weiss, Beit Yehezkel, p. 77; R. Abraham Isaac haKohen Kook, Orah Mishpat, no. 111 (pp. 117-120) and 112 (pp. 120-129); R. Joseph Elijah Henkin, Teshuvot Ivra, sec. 52, no. 3 (in Kitvei haGri Henkin, II); R. Haim David Halevi, responsum to Aryeh A. Frimer, dated 7 Shevat 5756 – published in Resp. Mayyim Hayyim, III, sec.55; and R. David Feinstein, conversation with Aryeh A. Frimer and Dov I. Frimer, March 19, 1995. See also the commentary of Radbaz to M.T., Melakhim 6:3, where even normally permitted lying is forbidden lest it result in hillul Hashem should the truth be discovered. Similarly, in discussing Sanhedrin 29a and the cause of Adam and Eve’s sin, R. Hanokh Zundel, Eits Yosefad loc., s.v. Ma,” comments that one must be particularly careful how a stringency and its rationale are formulated, for if no distinction is drawn between a stringency and the original ordinance, any error found in the stringency may lead the masses to believe that there is an error in the original ordinance itself.
[20] R. Benjamin Lau, “The Challenge of Halakhic Innovation,” Meorot 8 Tishrei 5771, pp 43-57 at pp. 45-46, available online here.
[21] See our discussion in Section E of Frimer and Frimer, supra note 3.
[22] It could be that the Hazon Ish would not be opposed if this information was revealed in a responsible way. I say this since his language is
והבא להכריז בין המון העם כי חכמים גזרו עלינו דברים שהתורה לא אסרתן כונתו ידועה . . . והתוצאות ידועות
(Emphasis added) This might mean that it is only objectionable if someone makes a big deal out of the fact that a certain prohibition is only rabbinic
[23] Mishneh Kesef (Cracow, 1906), vol. 2, to Gen 42:12 (pp. 93-94).
[24] His quote of Aristotle is: נכון לגדול הנפש שיכזכ בהיות זה הכרחי
[25] See Jane S. Zembaty, “Aristotle on Lying,” Journal of the History of Philosophy 31 (1993), pp. 7-29.
[26] Ahoti Kalah (Jerusalem, 2007), p. 149.
[27] Eliyahu Sheetrit, Rabbenu (Jerusalem, 2014), p. 266.
[28] This example, and also R. Falk’s Levushah shel Torah, were called to my attention by R. Yonason Rosman.
[29] (Jerusalem, 2007), vol. 2, pp. 783-784.



Dorshei Yichudcha: A Portrait of Professor Elliot R. Wolfson

Dorshei Yichudcha:
A Portrait of Professor Elliot R.
Wolfson[1]
by Joey Rosenfeld
Joey Rosenfeld is a
psychotherapist in St. Louis where he recently moved with his family. He
recently published his first sefer, sc’hok
d’yitzchak
on the Kabbalistic theme butzina d’kardinusa, or darkened light.
More of his writing can be found online at Residual Speech.
לאו כל
מוחא סביל דא[2]
Tasked with the formidable project of recounting Franz Rosenzweig’s life, Emmanuel Levinas apologized in advance
for speaking, as well, about Rosenzweig’s opus, The Star of Redemption. The reason for this, Levinas wrote, was not due to lack of distinction, rather it would be nearly impossible to separate the man from his work.[3] This sentiment can be applied equally to Elliot R. Wolfson and his vast oeuvre. Professor Wolfson’s breathtaking breadth of scholarship – starting from his Through a Speculum that Shines: Vision and Imagination in Medieval Jewish Mysticism[4] to his recent Giving Beyond the Gift: Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania[5] – can be said to touch upon every field within the Humanities, as well as significant areas within the Sciences. Trained in Philosophy and the field of Jewish Studies, with a focus on Jewish Mysticism, Wolfson’s erudition, astonishing at times, covers diverse fields such as Hermeneutics, Anthropology, Sociology, Bible, Literary
Criticism, Gender Theory, Psychology and Psychoanalysis, Poetics, Neuroscience, and Comparative Religious studies.[6] While many authors share a similar output as that of Wolfson; ten books, four edited volumes, and tens of essays; few share the unique and apparent unity-of-thought that flows through his body of work. Whether it is an in-depth analysis of occularcentrism within Medieval Jewish mysticism, the dynamics of truth as refracted through the temporal presence of beginning-middle-end, or the Eros of poesies and the poesies of Eros in Jewish Mysticism and Philosophical hermeneutics, Wolfson’s presence as an author, delicately weaving together a tapestry of sources is felt through his texts. This presence, however, is present through its absence. Wolfson occludes himself through and within his texts, thus coloring each of his works with the dialectical dance of concealment and disclosure. Through a speculum of sources, culled from all arenas of thought – ranging from the thirteenth-century masters of Ecstatic Kabbalah to the current leaders of Haredi-Mysticism; from the annals of Greek Philosophy to the most current Hermeneutic- Phenomenologists – Wolfson speaks through and beyond the language of his sources.
Born on the 19th of Kislev,[7] a day pregnant with mystical significance within the Hasidic community of Chabad,[8] Elliot R. Wolfson was raised in a traditional Orthodox Jewish home. With an Orthodox rabbi as his father who was both a pulpit rabbi and a Rosh Yeshiva,[9] young Elliot Wolfson “was surrounded by Jewish textuality” and “was exposed as a teenager to the Hasidic works of Nachman of Bratslav and Chabad. And both of those sects were quite present physically in my environment, so it wasn’t just book study, but I interacted with Hasidim from both of these groups. And that was really my initial entry into kabbalah, or Jewish mysticism,” as he explained in a 2012 interview.[10] Beginning with the Tanya at age thirteen, Wolfson recalls his first experience with the texts of Breslov at a Tikkun Leil Shavuot at the age of fifteen. After that, he began attending classes of the well-known mashpiah of Breslov, Rabbi Zvi Aryeh Rosenfeld.[11] At sixteen, Wolfson began studying Rav Kook’s Orot ha-Kodesh, along with the various works of The Ramchal, including Kelach Pitchei Hokhmah, Derekh ha-Shem, and Da’at Tevunot, etc., and a year later, at age seventeen, he began studying the works of The Maharal.[12]
Wolfson spent three semesters at Yeshiva University, where he had the privilege of hearing Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, at his “public lectures, which were masterful in their philosophical exegesis of Jewish texts. Indeed, I would have to say that it was from Soloveitchik that I drew inspiration for the possibility of rendering traditional sources in a philosophical key,” remembered Wolfson.[13] After his time at Yeshiva University, Wolfson transferred to a program at the CUNY Graduate Center in conjunction with Queens College. It was there, under the tutelage of Professors Henry Wolz and Edith Wyschogrod that he first immersed himself in philosophical study. The relationship with Wyschogrod, whom Wolfson considers to be “one of my most important teachers,” opened up new vistas in the world of continental philosophy, and continued to bear fruits, even after her passing in 2009.[14] It was at CUNY Queens that Wolfson focused his studies to the fields of hermeneutics, phenomenology and existentialism; three registers of thought that would influence his subsequent foray into the field of Jewish mysticism.
After finishing his studies at CUNY Queens, Wolfson made the decision to pursue graduate studies at Brandeis University in the field of Jewish studies with a focus on Jewish mysticism. It was there, under the tutelage of Professors Alexander Altmann, Marvin Fox, and Michael Fishbane, that Wolfson completed his dissertation work on the thirteenth-century Spanish kabbalist Moses de Leon.[15] Regarding Wolfson’s dissertation, one can glean from the following anecdote the deep sense of hermeneutical secrecy already stirring. Wolfson recounts, “an episode that occurred in one of the doctoral qualifying exams. The topic was Perushei Ma’aseh Bere’shit and Perushei Ma’aseh Merkavah in twelfth- and thirteenth-century philosophic and kabbalistic literature. At the end of the exam Professor [Alexander] Altmann asked, “So Mr. Wolfson, what is the secret of the chariot according to Maimonides?” And I said, “The secret is that there is no secret,” and he clapped his hands as a sign of approval.”[16] His dissertation became his first published work, The Book of the Pomegranate: Moses de Leon’s Sefer ha-rimmon.[17] Upon the completion of his graduate work, Wolfson eventually joined the faculty at New York University’s Skirball Department of Hebrew and Judaic Studies in 1987, and was awarded the Judge Abraham Lieberman Professor of Hebrew Studies at New York University in 1993, where he served until early 2014, when he moved to California and currently serves as the Marsha and Jay Glazer professor of Jewish Studies at the University of California, Santa Barbara.
On a more personal note, I have been gifted the opportunity to form a close relationship with Professor Wolfson over the past few years. While he was still in New York, I had the chance to sit and learn on two separate occasions of which I would like to recall. Through the help of my dear friend, Menachem Butler, a meeting was set up in Professor Wolfson’s NYU office.[18] Having previously read numerous works of his, I was prepared to meet a removed and rightfully proud scholar. Entering into Professor Wolfson’s cramped office, I was immediately taken-aback by the sheer amount of books and seforim that lined the shelves, desk and window sills. What was most wonderful, however, was not the quantity of books, but the quality, the difference and the scope of the works scattering his office. On Wolfson’s desk one could find the most current in haredi kabbalah, Heideggerian studies, gender theory as well as recently published works of Hasidut and the students of The Vilna Gaon. These contradictory volumes were not organized by topic, rather they sat, interspersed, erasing the imaginary demarcations separating one stream of thought from its other.
Having prepared a ma’amar from Rav Yitzchak Hutner’s Pachad Yitzhak (Pesach 74) to study, we quickly descended into the textual landscape wherein I experienced, for the first time, the embodiment of what Rosenzweig called sprachdenken, or speech-thinking.[19] The text, in which Rav Hutner describes the constitutive lack within language, opened the door to the inherent gap between what Levinas refers to as the ‘saying’ and the ‘said’. The evasiveness of the perfect word, the impossibility of speech to say what it truly means to be saying, opened the conversation to various overlaps and influences that jumped out from the text before us. Unbeknownst to me, we had encountered one of the fundamental issues at play in Wolfson’s hermeneutics. What stands out most in my memory, however, is not the depth and fluidity of his thinking, but rather a seemingly insignificant incident that occurred during our learning. Having been asked to read the text, I stumbled with the reading of various words. These were not mistakes, in which the word could be misconstrued for a different out-of-context word; these were slight mispronunciations which in no way affected the meaning of the text. While reading, Wolfson, in his quiet and humble voice corrected my pronunciation to ensure that the word be read carefully and correctly. Only afterwards did I recognize the hyper-focus to detail that Professor Wolfson highlighted in his corrections. It is this insistence on the truth, the guardedness with which he approaches each and every text, which marks Wolfson’s works through and through. This attention, what Benjamin (quoting Malebranche) called “the natural prayer of the soul,” has enabled Wolfson to truly-read as he reads-truly.[20]
On another occasion, shortly before he left for the West Coast, I had the merit of accompanying Wolfson on his last pilgrimage to the gravesite of the late Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rav Menachem Mendel Schneerson, known as the ohel. Arriving at the ohel wherein lay the graves of the Rebbe and his predecessor Rav Yosef Yitzhak Schneerson, in what appeared to be a preparatory pause, Wolfson turned around and gazed at the graves of the holy women of Habad, Rebetzeins Chaya Mushka and  Shterna Sarah. Mid-gaze, Wolfson whispered, “She was the wife of the RaShab.” Those words are what I remember most. Uttered with a sense of melancholic yearning, I believe Wolfson was taken back to a space beyond memory, to a place where thinkers like Shalom Dov-Baer Schneerson walked the earth. After spending some time inside the ohel itself, Menachem and I left to give Professor Wolfson privacy with the giants who so deeply impacted his life’s work. Afterwards we sat down to learn a ma’amar from the RaShab,[21] chosen at random. Learning the text – which was written by the RaShab himself – we continuously came across the notation ve’chu, similar to “etc.,” signifying the absence of some extended textual statement. What bothered Professor Wolfson was that seemingly, everything that needed to be expressed was already written. There was no apparent reason for the text to end in the open-ended manner of ve’chu. As Wolfson later explained to me, “Usually this notation is used as an abbreviation so that one does not have to repeat the conclusion of a biblical verse or a rabbinic dictum. The author assumes that the reader can fill in the unstated text. But in the Habad context this notation refers to the inference that the reader must make from what is stated, not a marker of something previously stated.”[22]
Professor Wolfson’s impact on the field on Jewish studies cannot be overstated. In a practical sense, Wolfson has taught and mentored numerous students who have subsequently become significant scholars in the field of Jewish Mysticism.[23] Professor Daniel Abrams, an early Wolfson student, has noted the multifaceted significance of Wolfson’s scholarship as an, “approach to mythopoesis (that) explores such major topics as gender and ontology, entering into dialogue with studies and concepts from philosophy, religious studies (and comparative religions), theology and feminist theory… This history and the various text editions and major studies Wolfson has published in recent years have unfolded into a very complex matrix of methodologies which are unique to his writing and which build upon various disciplines to which few have sufficient access. From rabbinic and kabbalistic anthropology to the ontological and symbolic status of the feminine, Wolfson has shown the tacit assumptions that define the hermeneutic horizons of kabbalistic literature.”[24]
In addition, the various themes that mark Wolfson’s scholarship reverberate throughout much of the current literature and scholarship on Jewish mysticism. His constant presence at conferences and various publications testifies to the massive impact he has had in the field. On a more personal level, his vast contribution to the study of Jewish mysticism is twofold. On the one hand, Wolfson has consistently shown a continuous flow of thought, uninterrupted by the temporal fissures between one publication to the next. Indeed, as it will be shown below, one could posit certain ideas that seem to serve as the foundational stone, the even ha-shisiya, throughout all of Professor Wolfson’s scholarship. On the other hand, Wolfson manifests the true rabbinic ideal of creativity, or hiddush within each work, thus creating a stream-of-thought that is coincidental in its opposition as it is oppositional in its coincidence. Regarding the latter aspect of Wolfson’s thought, Professor Jonathan Garb makes note of “[t]he sheer scope of hiddush, of innovation, in theory, in comparative study and in textual analysis, eclipses any sense of continuity. One may say that there are two ideal types of scholars: One who unfold their earlier conceptions, even if in interesting and deep ways, and those who constantly create new domains, thus becoming one of the founders of discourse that Michel Foucault has both described and personified.”[25] In agreement with Garb’s perception of Wolfson’s capacity to unfold new creases within Jewish studies and beyond, I respectfully disagree with the notion that “the sheer scope of hiddush” diminishes, or “eclipses any sense of continuity.” Wolfson’s scholarship is marked by a unique form of radical hermeneutics which creates a repetition that is interrupted by the incessant sense of re-creation.[26]
This radical creativity, which includes the grafting together of disciplines ordinarily assumed to be separate and distinct, has- at times- been met with a sense of resistance from others in Wolfson’s field. In a more insidious sense, Professor Wolfson’s work in the field of Jewish mysticism has been met through non-meeting, or what seems to be a conscious repression of the often uncomfortable themes that Wolfson textually uncovers. Recognizing this phenomenon early on in Wolfson’s career, Professor Pinchas Giller wrote: “[t]he focus of Wolfson’s work presents challenges to the status qua of the field, and these challenges have not gone unremarked. In addition to challenging scholarly peers, Wolfson has also consistently rejected the glib, platitudinous understandings of Jewish mythology and symbolism prevalent in work written for popular audiences. This eschewing of cant and easy cliché is consistent with the restless searching spirit evident in his scholarship.”[27]
In addition to the challenges Wolfson has engaged other scholars in; his erudition in all areas of Jewish thought has also impacted the reception and engagement with his scholarship. As opposed to the static status many thinkers hold within their area of expertise, Wolfson has consistently crossed the artificial demarcations separating one area from another. Professor Wolfson is equally erudite in modern Hasidic thought – evidenced by his work Open Secret on Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson[28] – as he is in Zoharic scholarship as seen in his numerous articles devoted to questions of origin and the Zohar’s evocative mystical hermeneutics.[29] The dynamic ability to live, simultaneously, in the worlds of Maimonides[30] and Abraham Abulafia,[31] for example, has both elevated and alienated Wolfson from within the static walls of the academy, particularly in Israel. In this regard, Giller wrote: “Few scholars are so brazen as to speak authoritatively about more than one genre or time period. Wolfson seems to have violated the spirit of this social compact. The scope and volume of his writings have been viewed as evidence of a certain presumption, an ambition to rise to eminence without the sanction of Jerusalem.”[32]
Although the claim is authentic, namely, that Wolfson’s erudition stretches beyond the temporal limits of one time period or genre, the sense of “presumption” or academic arrogance is unfounded. Both in his scholarship and personal life, Wolfson exudes a certain lived-sense of humility.[33] The nullification of authorial-sense that allows Wolfson to speak through his sources as his sources speak through him is rooted in the modesty that marks both his life and his scholarship. As will be explained below, this modesty is deeply connected to Wolfson’s primary treatment of Jewish mysticism. The dialectic of concealment and disclosure, modesty and expression, reveals the chiasmic[34] sense of concealment as disclosure and disclosure as concealment. To reveal is to occlude that which cannot be disclosed, as concealment is to disclose that which must remain concealed. Wolfson’s work, far from being a “presumptuous” or arrogant expression of erudition, operates as a manifestation of modesty, secrecy and concealment that marks the nature of Jewish mysticism.
            Another critique aimed at Wolfson’s scholarship is the accusation of philosophical anachronism. The engagement of thinkers temporally removed from the time and space of early kabbalists has led some to claim that Wolfson’s work operates under a certain “obvious charge of anachronism.” In this regard, Wolfson notes that the vast body of his work is contained in “The field of my vision, so to speak, has been leveled, to the degree that is possible, by a focus on kabbalistic sources ranging from the twelfth to the twenty-first centuries, a large temporal swatch by anyone’s account. The use of German and French philosophers primarily from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries to interpret texts of traditional kabbalah, whose ideas may be ancient but whose incipient articulation in a Hebrew idiom is to be traced to a rich creative period from the twelfth to fourteenth century, demands a defense against the obvious charge of anachronism.”[35]
Regarding this claim, it is appropriate to paraphrase a notion depicted by Reb Zadok HaKohen of Lublin, a nineteenth century Hasidic thinker, regarding the nature of the accusatory gaze.[36] Often when an accusation is leveled against a particular individual, it is assumed that the accusatory claim points to a character defect. Through an act of psychological inversion, however, R. Zadok posits that the accusation- far from pointing to a defect in character- points towards the uniqueness of that individual.[37] This may be applied to Professor Wolfson’s creative capacity of posing thinkers, vastly removed by time and space, in dialogue with one another. The weaving of new constellations between thinkers hitherto unassociated marks Wolfson’s work with polyphonic sprachdenken, or speech-thinking.[38]  In this sense, Wolfson has paved new clearings along the path of Jewish mysticism. The utilization of philosophers, poets and religious thinkers from separate domains has given Wolfson the opportunity of translating[39] ancient kabbalistic ideas into a modern academic idiom. Far from the self-serving act of philosophical name-dropping, Wolfson’s engagement with these thinkers is an essential aspect of his thought’s unfolding. Equally erudite in the fields of continental philosophy as he is in Jewish mysticism, the often astonishing ease with which Wolfson weaves through the intertextual landscapes creates a vortex in which the kabbalists speak through the philosophers as the philosophers speak through the kabbalists.
Among the various thinkers with whom Wolfson has engaged in the infinite conversation, a select few stand out as constant presences in his scholarship.
First and foremost, Martin Heidegger’s philosophy and poetics have served as a speculum through which Wolfson has peered, moving through and beyond the Heideggerian notions of ontology, temporality, language, poetics, eschatology and dialectics of concealment and disclosure. Deeply aware of the controversies surrounding Heidegger’s dishonorable past; Wolfson has engaged the German philosopher’s thought while simultaneously recognizing his personal, political and even philosophical failures.[40] Wolfson has even hinted to the possibility of Heidegger manifesting certain traits of the biblical nemesis of the Jewish people, Balaam.[41] Much like Balaam who blessed the Jewish people through his attempt to curse them, Heidegger’s thought has provided fertile ground for Jewish thinkers, even as he was engaged in an insidious form of anti-Semitism.[42]
 Emmanuel Levinas is another thinker with whom Wolfson engages in philosophical dialogue, often resulting in the appreciation and acceptance of certain Levinasian notions while concurrently moving beyond the limit of his ethical and ontological premises. Critical of Levinas’s rhetorical and absolute renunciation of Heidegger’s thought, Wolfson clears a middle path through which the demarcations separating Levinas and Heidegger are written under erasure.[43]
 Another philosophical muse of Wolfson’s is Jacques Derrida. The Jewish father of deconstruction marks the pages of Wolfson’s scholarship, as well as his personal philosophical stance. Derrida’s utilization of James Joyce’s enigmatic statement, “Jewgreek is Greekjew, extremes meet?”[44] has given Wolfson a predecessor in his chiasmic dance of exclusion as inclusion and distance as closeness.[45] Derrida’s discussions on language, writing, absence, and negative theology have deeply influenced Wolfson’s scholarship.[46] In particular, the notion of the Derridian differance, or trace – a presence that is present through absence as it is absent through presence- has played a significant role in Wolfson’s development of such topics as zimzum and secrecy that play a central role in the Jewish mystical tradition. Professor Wolfson has stated that the Derridian trace plays a key and central role throughout most of his philosophical hermeneutics.[47] In addition to the philosophical themes wherein these thinkers overlap, the sociopolitical critiques that Derrida has leveled against Western ontotheology have impacted Wolfson’s approach to the Jewish mystical tradition.
The area in which this is most apparent is Wolfson’s claim that Jewish mystical texts and traditions operate within a closed, phallocentric system.[48] Echoing Derrida’s claim that Western thought has consistently worked within the economy of binary oppositions, while simultaneously privileging the masculine sense of presence and speech over the more feminized forms of absence and writing, Wolfson sees the Jewish mystical tradition as being a phallocentric discourse spoken through the mouths of male mystics. Wolfson has received much attention, not always positive, as a result of his stance.[49] Numerous scholars have attempted to take Wolfson to task, claiming that Jewish mysticism gives precedence to the feminine aspect of the Godhead, namely the shkina, and thus manifests a certain mystical feminism in which the patriarchal sense of privileging the masculine is overturned.[50] As Wolfson points out, the masculine in Jewish mystical texts represents the capacity to overflow, while the feminine reflects the passive capacity to receive. In this regard, Wolfson utilizes various thinkers within the French feminist movement, first and foremost the thought of the psychoanalyst and philosopher, Luce Irigaray, to elucidate his stance on gender-valence. Quite aware of the source material in which Jewish mystical texts apply an elevated, eschatological notion to the feminine, Wolfson has consistently pointed out that the inversion of hierarchal status is not equivalent to the undoing of essentialist and binary views of gender.  While the feminine may be elevated to its initial space of origin, in the spirit of the rabbinic dictum, “a woman of valor is the crown of her husband,” implying an overcoming of the diminution of the feminine vis-à-vis the masculine, the feminine is still endowed with masculine traits, thus maintaining the hierarchal status of gender even in its collapsing. While Wolfson is aware of the difficulty in accepting such an essentialist approach to gender performativity in the Jewish mystical tradition, he has stressed the need of critically analyzing texts through their anthropological and philological counterparts.[51] It is important to note, however, that while affirming the masculine-oriented nature of the tradition, Wolfson is by no means closing the text off beyond any redemptive stance.  In his later work,[52] Wolfson has shown that certain Jewish texts do clear a path through which the patriarchal, male-dominant notions inherent within the Jewish mystical tradition can be overcome. This eschatological advent of an undifferentiated state of non-duality, in which the feminine is no longer considered other, due to the fact that the masculine loses its privileged stance as the same, is rooted in the highest manifestation of the Divine-Plemora, namely Reisha-d’lo-ityada, or the unknown, or unknowable head. It is here, in this yet undefined state, not due to lack of definition, but rather inherently tied up in its own indefinability, that the promise of redemption lays.
In order to understand Wolfson’s concentration on the nature of the feminine, and the totalized system of Jewish mystical thought which appears to operate within a patriarchal framework, one needs to view his scholarly contributions through the lens of his personal and philosophical attitudes.  In this sense it is important to note the comments of Professor David Novak, in which he stated: “I have been trying to goad Elliot Wolfson, whom I consider to be the most philosophically interesting of today’s kabbalah scholars, into explicating kabbalah philosophically, that is, doing when speaking in the first person, because a philosopher has to speak in the first person. A philosopher has to say, “‘This is what I think is true.’ Wolfson’s explication of kabbalah is philosophical, but it has to be stated more clearly in his own voice, rather than in the voice or voices of his sources.”[53]
Although I categorically disagree with Novak’s claim that “a philosopher has to speak in the first person,” or that Wolfson’s thought need be “stated more clearly in his own voice,” the notion that Wolfson renders kabbalah in a philosophical key, as well as philosophy through a kabbalistic key is noteworthy. Throughout Wolfson’s writings, one senses a personal journey- perhaps even a wandering – through the labyrinthine pathways of text, context and pretext.[54]  Grafting together thinkers, divided by the fissures of temporal sway, Wolfson allows his “still small voice” to murmur beneath the magnificent edifices he erects. This voice, pregnant with a suffering unique to the mystical-hermeneutical quest, dances between the black and white fires that have become Wolfson’s plaything. The delicate balance between Wolfson’s personal, philosophical outlook and the scholarly body-of-text creates a third, wholly new path within the field of Jewish mysticism. Returning to the emphasis on the role of the feminine in Jewish mysticism, one theme- erupting from the silent voice- marks the pages of Wolfson’s scholarship, namely- an ethically and ontologically driven concern for the other.
In Wolfson’s own words: “If I were to isolate a current running through the different studies, it would be the search to resolve the ontological problem of identity and difference, a philosophic matter that has demanded much attention in various contemporary intellectual currents, to wit, literary criticism, gender studies, post-colonial theory, social anthropology, just to name a few examples. Indeed, it is possible to say, with no exaggeration intended, that there has been a quest at the heart of my work to understand the other, to heed and discern the alterity of alterity…What has inspired the quest for me has been the discernment on the part of the kabbalists that the ultimate being-becoming becoming being- nameless one known through the ineffable name, yhwh- transcends oppositional binaries, for, in the one that is beyond the difference of being one or the other, light is dark, black is white, night is day, male is female, Adam is Edom.”[55]
Wolfson’s concern for the other, the subject removed from the philosopher’s gaze, transcends the everyday concern for the sociopolitical standing of various groups. Disquieted by the hierarchies of power on a practical level,[56] Wolfson sees the othering of the other as a symptom of a more fundamental, philosophical issue. The feminine, for Wolfson, speaks for all that which has been relegated to the margins of alterity. These specters of presence, repressed by Western ontotheological discourse, have engaged Wolfson in a lifelong quest to disclose that which has been concealed from sight. Operating from within the position of kabbalistic texts, Wolfson has shown that “the ontological problem of identity and difference” rests at the center of the Jewish mystical tradition. Whether it is the dialectic of zimzum which discloses through concealment as it conceals through disclosure; the contradictory essence of the sefirot that operate concurrently as the finitude-of-infinity and the infinity-of-finitude; the eschatological hope for the advent of the messiah that is disclosed-through-its-foreclosure as it is foreclosed-through-its-disclosure; the speaking of the Name that is no-Name that may only be spoken through non-speaking; or the duality of secrecy that is secret-in-exposure as it is exposed-in-secret; Wolfson clears a path in which the identity of the same can only take root through the difference of the other, and vice versa.
 It is important to note, that although Wolfson employs a certain dialectical logic to highlight the oppositional relation between one thing and its other, by no means does he allow the dialectical pressure to find relief in a totalized synthesis. Like many philosophers engaged with continental or post-modernist thought, Wolfson is no longer comfortable relying on transcendentally prescribed truths, or “meta-narratives” to enclose the open-endedness of thought in the post-Hegelian epoch.[57] In contradistinction to many self-proclaimed post-Hegelian’s, however, Wolfson’s disavowal of the “synthesis which reconciles the two” does not stem simply from an external adherence to the populist philosophical zeitgeist. Rather, Wolfson’s insistence on keeping the dialectical movement in play stems from uncovering the limit of thought in which the identity-of-difference can only be expressed through the difference-of-identity. In other words, the divergent paths of separation may only unite through the separateness of their divergence. In this space of the excluded middle, each thing and its other remain distinct, with neither pole swallowing its other in an act of metaphysical violence. This limit of thought as Wolfson notes,[58] is representative of, “‘the mystery of the light of infinity’- which is predicated on the supposition that A and not-A are the same in virtue of their difference, or…shnei hafakhim be-nose ehad, ‘two opposites in one subject’.” Viewed in this light, Wolfson enters into, “the scandal of the coicidentia oppositourm such that the Yes can become a No and the No, a Yes, not by way of conflation but by juxtaposition, the disappearance of the very possibility of difference in the nonidentity of the identity of opposites; that is, opposites are identical by virtue of their opposition.”[59] It is at this limit-of-thought which is simultaneously the thought-of-limit where Wolfson sees the root of the mystical experience, or in the language of Maurice Blanchot, ‘the limit experience’.[60]
To enter into this paradoxical ‘place that is no place’[61] where opposites coincide in their opposition, Wolfson travels ‘a path from the side’ in which the necessary delimitations of logic are necessarily circumvented. In this sense, one may locate Wolfson’s thought within the sefirotic-space of keter, the super-rational will, or desire in which limits collapse while paradoxically upholding their limitations. Seen through the (dark)light of keter, Wolfson’s feverish[62] obsession with Nothingness becomes an essential aspect of his thinking, as well as lived-experience.[63]
 In the space of a Nothing that is a something that is no-thing, the normative, restrictive nature of language and thought must be transgressed. This transgression, however, is not a simple disavowal of language and thought, rather- it is the movement through and beyond the limit of these phenomenological modes-of-being. The dialectical play of keter – in which Nothing and Something, Ayin and Yesh, coincide so that the something-of-nothing, Atik Yomin, becomes the nothing-of-something, Arich Anpin – enables Wolfson to speak through the nothingness-of-language which is concurrently the language-of-nothingness, as he thinks imaginatively through imaginative-thinking. In other words, as opposed to the normative response to that which transcends identification, namely the Wittgensteinian ‘not-speaking’, Wolfson engages in a hermeneutics of ‘speaking-not’.[64] Deeply aware of language’s limit, Wolfson speaks through language towards its (n)ever receding horizon, thus transforming the nihilistic tendency of language’s shattering into an affirmation of that that which can never be affirmed.[65] The same can be said regarding Wolfson’s approach to rational thinking. Operating within the Aristotelian laws-of-logic, the Western ontotheological tradition has engraved a deep boundary separating that which can be thought and that which transcends the human capacity of thought. Wolfson, however, reaching the limit of thoughts interiority, “breaks on through to the other side,” wandering into the recesses of exteriorities (un)thought space. At the threshold, Wolfson relinquishes the bonds of ‘mental slavery’ and enters the luminous space of imaginal thinking.[66] Wolfson’s imaginative faculty enables him to think otherwise, beyond positivistic and perceivable reality. However, Wolfson’s approach to imaginationmuch like his approach to languageis far more complex than the mere denial of rational thought’s efficacy. Rigorously avoiding the fantastical flight into irrationality, Wolfson’s imaginal gleanings are marked by a strict set of laws, thus enabling the paradoxical play of imaginative-thinking and thinking-imaginatively. Similar to a dream in which the imaginary is grounded by the factual as the factual is grounded by the imaginary, Wolfson’s hermeneutics transform the black and white texts into a polyphonic expression of all that remains inexpressible.
Arriving again at the beginning, we can now comment on an essential aspect of Wolfson’s life-work, that is, the two forms of expression that walk along the path of his scholarship. The poetic hermeneutics that mark Wolfson’s theoretical work manifest, suddenly “with the turn of a breath” in his personal poetry.[67] In the ruins of language, Wolfson finds the openings through which his poetic breath may enter. Following in the trace of the poet Paul Celan, Wolfson speaks ‘every word through destruction’. The poems, often times difficult to read- not due to their opacity, but rather, due to the imaginal stirrings that are evoked- are an embodiment of the rabbinic idiom, “miut ha-machazik et ha-meruba,” the diminutive that encompasses the enormous.  The exilic nature of the poems leads the reader down the path that is no path, into the silent and lonely clearing where presence and absence dance. Reading Wolfson’s poetics along the furrows of his scholarship enables the reader to behold the embodied nature of Wolfson’s lived-thought. Along with his poetry, Wolfson is a seasoned artist whose paintings have been featured at various showings.[68] If poetry is the response to language’s limit, art is born from within rationalities foreclosure. Wolfson’s paintings depict the evanescence of color, the fleetingness of forms that get caught in the horizon of the frame. The kol of Wolfson’s poetics and the ohr of his aesthetics escort his philosophical hermeneutics into the space of the mystical experience.
Much like Wolfson’s triadic expression of scholarship, poetics and aesthetics, the written or marked space can only take the reader so far. The reader must engage with the texts through an act of hermeneutical inquisitiveness, opening themselves to what murmurs beneath the surface of the text. In this sense Elliot R. Wolfsons’s work not only opens upon a new path, but beckons the reader to join him.
Notes:
[1] The title of this essay, “Dorshei Yichudcha,” is taken
from the Ana BeKoach prayer attributed to R. Nechunya ben HaKanah. Translated
by Louis Jacobs as “Seeker of Unity,” this appellation is easily applied to
Professor Elliot R. Wolfson. The full context of this phrase in the prayer is
as follows, “nah gibor dorshei yichudcha ki-vavat shamrem” (“please protect the
seekers of Your unity like the apple of Your eye”). In his monograph on the
Hasidic mystic R. Aaron haLevi Horowitz of Starosselje, “The Seeker of Unity,”
Louis Jacobs records from R. Chaim Meir Hillman’s Beis Rebbe (1:26 fn.1) that when R. Dov Ber Schneerson, the
Mitteler Rebbe of Habad would repeat this verse, he would have his dear friend
and study partner, R. Aaron haLevi in mind. The reason, explained R. Dov Ber
was because R. Aaron delves so deeply into the secret of faith, “the raza
di-meheimanusa,” to the point where the demarcations of reality and Godliness
dissolve. See Louis Jacobs, Seeker of
Unity: The Life and Works of Aaron of Starosselje
(London: Vallentine
Mitchell, 1966), 7. See also Immanuel Etkes, “The War of Lyady Succession: R.
Aaron Halevi versus R. Dov Baer,” Polin
25 (2013): 93-133.
“Dorshei,” from the root darash, represents the
hermeneutical quest, the textual journey into that which lay within the words
themselves. “Yichudcha,” from the root yichud, represents the unity of all, the
source beneath the fragmentation of things that unites all that is different
within the difference-of-unity. The hermeneutical path that seeks to uncover
the unity of all is a proper description of Elliot R. Wolfson’s life and work.
[2]
Tanya, Chapter Twenty-Three.
[3] Emmanuel Levinas, Difficult
Freedom: Essays on Judaism
, trans. Seán Hand (London: The Athlone Press,
1990),  181.
[4] (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994).
[5] (New York: Fordham University Press, 2014).
[6] A complete listing of his articles and book chapters are
available on his personal website here, as well as here.
[7] See Elliot R. Wolfson, Open Secret: Postmessianic Messianism and the Mystical Revision of
Menahem Mendel Schneerson
(New York: Columbia University Press, 2009),
xii-xiii, where Wolfson recounts a conversation held between himself and an
older Lubavitcher Hasid at 770 Eastern Parkway regarding the significance of
this birthdate. Wolfson quotes the Hasid as ending the conversation with, “Pay
attention, this day bears your destiny.”
[8] Amongst all streams of Jewish thought, it is possible to
say that Habad Hasidus has played one of the most significant roles in Wolfson’s
thought. His Elliot R. Wolfson, Open
Secret: Postmessianic Messianism and the Mystical Revision of Menahem Mendel
Schneerson
(New York: Columbia University Press, 2009)  is considered by many the authoritative and
definitive work on the role of kabbalah in the late Lubavitcher Rebbe’s thought
and political/theological weichenstellung. See as well Elliot R. Wolfson,
“Revisioning the Body Apophatically: Incarnation and the Acosmic Naturalism of
Habad Hasidism,” in Chris Boesel, and Catherine Keller, eds., Apophatic Bodies: Negative Theology,
Incarnation, and Relationality
(Fordham: Fordham University Press, 2010),
147-199. For his in-depth discussion on the fifth rebbe of Habad, R. Sholom Dov
Ber Schneerson’s thought, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Nequddat ha-Reshimu-The Trace
of Transcendence and Transcendence of the Trace: The Paradox of Simsum in the
RaShaB’s Hemshekh Ayin Beit,” Kabbalah
30 (2013): 75-120.
[9] Rabbi Wilfred Wolfson was an early student of Rabbi
Yaakov Yitzchok Ruderman at Yeshivas Ner Yisrael ( (Ner Israel Rabbinical
College), Baltimore, in the 1940’s. According to his son, Rabbi Wolfson was the
first rabbinic student from Ner Israel to be given permission to attend Johns
Hopkins University, where he studied with Professor William Foxwell Albright.
See Wilfred Wolfson, “Review of William Foxwell Albright, The Archaeology of Palestine,” The
Jewish Horizon
(March 1950): 18.
Rabbi Wilfred Wolfson served as the longtime rabbi of
Congregation Sha’arei Tefillah in Brooklyn and was a popular Rosh Yeshivah at
Yeshiva University/BTA in Brooklyn. Upon his death, Rabbi Wilfred Wolfson’s
collection of seforim was sent to the library at Ner Israel.
[10] Interview With Elliot R. Wolfson, July 25, 2012, in
Hava Tirosh Samuelson and Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson: Poetic Thinking (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 195.
[11] Rabbi Zvi Aryeh Rosenfeld is the one who is
single-handedly responsible for introducing the teachings of Breslov on the
American scene from the 1950s until his death in 1978.
[12] Email correspondence with Elliot R. Wolfson (16 July
2015). Teachings from Rav Kook, Ramchal, and Maharal are to be found throughout
Wolfson’s work.
[13] Interview With Elliot R. Wolfson, July 25, 2012, in
Hava Tirosh Samuelson and Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson: Poetic Thinking (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 196. For
his recent (and extensive) treatment of R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik’s thought,
see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Eternal Duration and Temporal Compresence: The
Influence of Habad on Joseph B. Soloveitchik,” in Michael Zank and Ingrid
Anderson, eds., The Value of the
Particular: Lessons from Judaism and the Modern Jewish Experience – Festschrift
for Steven T. Katz on the Occasion of his Seventieth Birthday
(Leiden:
Brill, 2015), 196-238.
[14] See Elliot R. Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream: Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of
Imagination
(New York: Zone Books, 2011), in which he dedicates the work,
“To the memory of Edith Wyschogrod, for showing me the way to the way of
nonshowing.” Wolfson adds the evocative Latin phrase, “somnium somnia quasi semper vives. Vive
quasi hodie moriebar
– ‎Dream as if
you’ll live forever. Live as if you’ll die today.”
For his extensive treatment of Wyschogrod’s thought, see Elliot
R. Wolfson, Giving Beyond the Gift:
Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania
(New York: Fordham University Press,
2014), 201-227. For Wolfson’s earlier work on Wyschogrod, see Elliot R. Wolfson,
“Apophasis and the Trace of Transcendence: Wyschogrod’s Contribution to a Postmodern
Jewish Immanent A/theology,” Philosophy
Today
55:4 (Winter 2011): 328-347; and for his article published in a
memorial festschrift for Wyschogrod, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Kenotic Overflow
and Temporal Transcendence: Angelic Embodiment and the Alterity of Time in
Abraham Abulafia,” in Eric Boynton and Martin Kavka, eds., Saintly Influence: Edith Wyschogrod and the Possibilities of Philosophy
of Religion
(New York: Fordham University Press, 2009), 113-149.
[15] Wolfson published the following essays in honor of his
doctoral advisors, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Mystical Rationalization of the
Commandments in the Prophetic Kabbalah of Abraham Abulafia,” in Alfred L. Ivry,
Elliot R. Wolfson & Allan Arkush, eds., Perspectives
on Jewish Thought and Mysticism
[=Alexander Altmann Memorial Volume]
(Reading: Harwood Academic Publishers, 1998), 311-360; Elliot R. Wolfson,
“Female Imaging of the Torah: From Literary Metaphor to Religious Symbol,” in
Jacob Neusner, Ernest S. Frerichs, and Nahum M. Sarna, eds., From Ancient Israel to Modern Judaism,
Intellect In Quest of Understanding: Essays in Honor of Marvin Fox
, vol. 2
(Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989), 271-307; Elliot R. Wolfson, “‘Sage Is
Preferable to Prophet’: Revisioning Midrashic Imagination,” in Deborah A. Green
and Laura S. Lieber, eds., Scriptural
Exegesis: The Shapes of Culture and the Religious Imagination: A Festschrift in
Honor of Michael Fishbane
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), 186-210.
[16] Email correspondence with Elliot R. Wolfson (16 July
2015). Wolfson’s response confirmed the approached first taken by Professor
Altmann in his earliest essay, in Alexander Altmann, “Das Verhältnis Maimunis
zur jüdischen Mystik,” Monatsschrift für
Geschichte und Wissenschaft des Judentums, 80 Jahrgang
(1936): 305-330
(German), which appeared in English translation in Alexander Altmann,
“Maimonides’ Attitude toward Jewish Mysticism,” Alfred Jospe, ed., Studies in Jewish Thought: An Anthology of
German Jewish Scholarship
(Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1981),
200-219. See Lawrence Fine, “Alexander Altmann’s Contribution to the Study of
Jewish Mysticism,” Leo Baeck Institute
Yearbook
34:1 (1989): 421-431, as well as Wolfson’s extensive discussion on
the Maimonidean secret in Elliot R. Wolfson, Abraham Abulafia — Kabbalist and Prophet: Hermeneutics, Theosophy and
Theurgy
(Los Angeles: Cherub Press, 2000).
[17] Elliot R. Wolfson, The
Book of the Pomegranate: Moses de Leon’s Sefer ha-Rimmon
(Atlanta: Scholars
Press, 1988). About this edition, Daniel Abrams has written: “No Hebrew word
processing paragraph today can link the base-text to the line numbers of the
edition, to the variant readings and to the editor’s notes. Such linkage has to
be done manually. See the most complex page layout of any camera-ready edition
prepared by a single scholar in the field of Jewish mysticism: Elliot Wolfson’s
The Book of the Pomegranate.” See Daniel Abrams, Kabbalistic Manuscripts and Textual Theory: Methodologies of Textual
Scholarship and Editorial Practice in the Study of Jewish Mysticism

(Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2010), 69n169.
[18] I would like to thank yedidi Reb Menachem Butler for
his help in preparing this essay. More importantly, Menachem has played a
uniquely important role in my life, opening space for relationships otherwise
inaccessible. Echoing the sentiment expressed to me by Professor Michael
Fishbane shlita, Menachem is a shadchan in the truest sense of the word,
uniting worlds otherwise disparate. The indelible mark Menachem has imparted
onto and into the world of Torah and Jewish studies is unparalleled. It is
through Menachem that I came to meet Professor Wolfson, and through Menachem is
this essay possible.
[19] See below for Wolfson’s usage of Rosenzweigian sprachdenken.
[20] See Walter Benjamin, “Franz Kafka,” trans. Harry Zohn,
in Michael W. Jennings, Howard Eiland, and Gary Smith, eds., Selected Writings, vol. 2, 1927-1934
(Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1999), 812.
[21] I do not recall the exact ma’amar studied, but the topic was the paradoxical nature of simsum
in which concealment is disclosed through the disclosure of concealment.
[22] Email correspondence with Elliot R. Wolfson (17 July
2015).
[23] Among the numerous students Wolfson has supervised,
Professors Daniel Abrams, Jonathan Dauber and Hartley Lachter have become
scholars of Jewish Mysticism, often building upon the themes in Wolfson’s work.
See, for example, Daniel Abrams, The
Female Body of God in Kabbalistic Literature: Embodied Forms of Love and
Sexuality in the Divine Feminine
(Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2004); Jonathan
Dauber, Knowledge of God and the
Development of Early Kabbalah
(Leiden: Brill, 2012); Hartley Lachter, Kabbalistic Revolution: Reimagining Judaism
in Medieval Spain
(New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 2015), and
others. Aside from his official students, Wolfson has mentored various scholars
in the field as well.
[24] Daniel Abrams, Kabbalistic
Manuscripts and Textual Theory: Methodologies of Textual Scholarship and
Editorial Practice in the Study of Jewish Mysticism
(Jerusalem: Magnes
Press, 2010), 13-14.
[25] Jonathan Garb, “In Honor of Elliot R. Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream,” NYU-Humanities Initiative (28 February
2012), available online here.
[26] This sense of radical hermeneutics is borrowed from
John D. Caputo, Radical Hermeneutics:
Repetition, Deconstruction and The Hermeneutic Project
(Bloomington: Indiana
University Press, 1987) and on his usage of this terminology, see Elliot R.
Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being:
Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination
(New York: Fordham
University Press, 2005), 473fn27.
[27] See Pinchas Giller, “Elliot Wolfson and the Study of
Kabbalah in the Wake of Scholem,” Religious
Studies Review
25:1 (January 1999): 23-28.
[28] Elliot R. Wolfson, Open
Secret: Postmessianic Messianism and the Mystical Revision of Menahem Mendel
Schneerson
(New York: Columbia University Press, 2009).
[29] For a compilation of Wolfson’s work on the Zohar, see
Elliot R. Wolfson, Luminal Darkness:
Imaginal Gleanings from Zoharic Literature
(Oxford: Oneworld, 2007).
Regarding the importance of Wolfson’s Zoharic scholarship see, Daniel Abrams, Kabbalistic Manuscripts and
Textual Theory: Methodologies of Textual Scholarship and Editorial Practice in
the Study of Jewish Mysticism
(Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2010): 132-133,
353-359.
[30] On Maimonides, see, Elliot R. Wolfson, “Beneath the
Wings of the Great Eagle: Maimonides and Thirteenth-Century Kabbalah,” in Görge
K. Hasselhoff and Otfried Fraisse, eds., Moses
Maimonides (1138-1204): His Religious, Scientific, and Philosophical
Wirkungsgeschichte in Different Cultural Contexts
(Würzburg: Ergon Verlag,
2004), 209-237; and regarding the impact of Maimonidean negative theology on
early Jewish mysticism, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Negative Theology and Positive
Assertion in the Early Kabbalah,” Da’at
32-33 (1994): V-XXII (English); Elliot R. Wolfson, “Via Negativa in Maimonides
and Its Impact on Thirteenth-Century Kabbalah,” Maimonidean Studies 5 (2008): 363-412. For a recent discussion on
the Maimonidean influence on the Neo-Kantianism of Hermann Cohen, see Elliot R.
Wolfson, Giving Beyond the Gift:
Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania
(New York: Fordham University Press,
2014), 14-33.
[31]  On Abraham
Abulafia, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Abraham
Abulafia—Kabbalist and Prophet: Hermeneutics, Theosophy, and Theurgy
(Los
Angeles: Cherub Press. 2000).
[32] See Pinchas Giller, “Elliot Wolfson and the Study of
Kabbalah in the Wake of Scholem,” Religious
Studies Review
25:1 (January 1999): 23-28.
[33] For an extensive treatment of humility in Jewish
thought, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Venturing
Beyond: Morality and Law in Kabbalistic Mysticism
(New York: Oxford
University Press, 2006), 286-316. See also the brief letter by Rav Aryeh
Kaplan, “The Humility of God,” The Jewish
Press
(27 January 1967): 45, called to my attention by Menachem Butler.
Regarding modesty as the prerequisite for truly engaging
Jewish mystical texts, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “From Sealed Book to Open Text:
Time, Memory, and Narrativity in Kabbalistic Hermeneutics,” in Steven Kepnes,
ed., Interpreting Judaism in a Postmodern
Age
(New York University Press, 1995), 145-178; and Elliot R. Wolfson,
“Secrecy, Modesty, and the Feminine: Kabbalistic Traces in the Thought of
Levinas,” in Kevin Hart and Michael
A. Signer, eds., The Exorbitant: Emmanuel
Levinas Between Jews and Christians
(New York: Fordham University Press,
2010), 52-73.
[34] On the usage of poetic-chiasmus in Wolfson’s work, a
motif that can be found countless times throughout his oeuvre, see Aaron W. Hughes, “Elliot R. Wolfson: An Intellectual
Portrait,” in Hava Tirosh Samuelson and Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson: Poetic Thinking
(Leiden: Brill, 2015), 1-33.
[35] See the prologue “Timeswerve/Hermeneutic
Reversibility,” in Elliot R. Wolfson, Language,
Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination
(New York:
Fordham University Press, 2005), xv-xxxi, where he combats the claim of
anachronism through an in-depth depiction of hermeneutical temporality; Elliot
R. Wolfson, Wolfson, Alef, Mem, Tau:
Kabbalistic Musings on Time, Truth and Death
(Berkeley: University of
California Press, 2006), 1-55. For a similar approach to this issue, see Elliot
R. Wolfson, “Structure, Innovation, and Diremptive Temporality: The Use of
Models to Study Continuity and Discontinuity in Kabbalistic Tradition,” Journal for the Study of Religions and
Ideologies
6:18 (2007): 143-167. See the comments of Sergey Dolgopolski, The Open Past: Subjectivity and Remembering
in the Talmud
(New York: Fordham University Press, 2013), 342fn6.
[36] On Reb Zadok ha-Kohen of Lublin, see the various
scholarly studies by Professor Yaakov Elman, which are all noted in Dovid
Bashevkin, “In Your Anger, Please Mercifully Publish My Work: An Honest Account
of a Contemporary Jewish Publishing Odyssey” the Seforim blog (26 June 2015), available here, and earlier in Dovid Bashevkin, “Perpetual Prophecy: An
Intellectual Tribute to Reb Zadok ha-Kohen of Lublin on his 110th Yahrzeit,”
(with an appendix entitled: “The World as a Book: Religious Polemic, Hasidei
Ashkenaz, and the Thought of Reb Zadok,”), the
Seforim blog
(18 August 2010), available here.
[37] See Tzidkat ha-Tzadik, no. 70.
[38] Regarding Wolfson’s usage of Rosenzweigian sprachdenken, see Elliot R. Wolfson,
“Introduction,” to Franz Rosenzweig, The
Star of Redemption
, trans. Barbara E. Galli (Wisconsin: University of
Wisconsin Press, 2005), xvii-xx. See as well, Elliot R. Wolfson, “Foreword,” to
Yudit Kornberg Greenberg, Better Than
Wine: Love, Poetry, and Prayer in the Thought of Franz Rosenzweig
(Atlanta:
Scholars Press, 1996),  xi-xii.
For an extensive treatment on Rosenzweig’s thought, see
Elliot R. Wolfson, Giving Beyond the
Gift: Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania
(New York: Fordham University
Press, 2014), 34-89. For an earlier approach see, Elliot R. Wolfson, “Facing
the Effaced: Mystical Eschatology and the Idealistic Orientation in the Thought
of Franz Rosenzweig,” Zeitschrift für
Neure Theologiegeschichte
4 (1997): 39-81. See, as well, Elliot R. Wolfson,
“Light Does Not Talk but Shines: Apophasis and Vision in Rosenzweig’s
Theopoetic Temporality,” in Aaron W. Hughes and Elliot R. Wolfson, eds., New Directions in Jewish Philosophy
(Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2009), 87-148.
[39] Regarding the central role translation as a hermeneutic
form of interpretation, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination
(New York: Fordham University Press, 2005), 1-45. For an earlier approach, see
Elliot R. Wolfson, “Lying on the Path: Translation and the Transport of Sacred
Texts,” AJS Perspectives 3 (2001):
8-13. For the influence of Hans Georg-Gademer’s interpretation theory on
Wolfson’s thought, see, Elliot R. Wolfson, Pathwings:
Philosophic and Poetic Reflections on the Hermeneutics of Time and Language
(Barrytown,
NY: Barrytown/Station Hill Press, 2004), 227-233.
[40] Regarding Heidegger’s Nazism, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic
Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination
(New York: Fordham University Press,
2005), 420fn241 and for a recent approach to the publications of Heidegger’s
infamous “Black Notebooks,” see the interview with Elliot R. Wolfson by Aubrey
Glazer, “What does Heidegger’s Anti-Semitism mean for Jewish Philosophy?” Religion Dispatches (3 April 2014),
online here. For a similar approach deeply influenced by Wolfson’s
thought, see Michael Fagenblat, “The Thing that Scares Me Most: Heidegger’s
anti-Semitism and the Return to Zion,” Journal
for Cultural and Religious Theory
14:1 (Fall 2014), 8-24. For an earlier
attempt to reconcile Heidegger’s thought with Jewish thought, see, Marlène Zarader, The Unthought Debt: Heidegger and the Hebraic Heritage (Stanford:
Stanford University Press, 2006) and Jean-Francois Lyotard, Heidegger and ‘the Jews’, trans. Andreas
Michel and Mark Roberts (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1990).
Regarding Wolfson’s engagement with Heidegger, see Aaron W.
Hughes, “Elliot R. Wolfson: An Intellectual Portrait,” in Hava Tirosh Samuelson
and Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson:
Poetic Thinking
(Leiden: Brill, 2015), 1-33. See also the
multi-page-footnote in Elliot R. Wolfson, “Eternal Duration and Temporal
Compresence: The Influence of Habad on Joseph B. Soloveitchik,” in Michael Zank
and Ingrid Anderson, eds., The Value of
the Particular: Lessons from Judaism and the Modern Jewish Experience –
Festschrift for Steven T. Katz on the Occasion of his Seventieth Birthday
(Leiden:
Brill, 2015), 208-212fn37.
It would be difficult to speak of all the places in which
Wolfson engages Heidegger’s thought, however see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Not Yet
Now: Speaking of the End and the End of Speaking,” in Hava Tirosh Samuelson and
Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson:
Poetic Thinking
(Leiden: Brill, 2015), 127-193; and Elliot R. Wolfson,
“Undoing the (K)not of Apophaticism: A Heideggerian Afterthought,” in Giving Beyond the Gift: Apophasis and
Overcoming Theomania
(New York: Fordham University Press, 2014), 227-260.
The specific impact Heidegger’s thought has had on Wolfson will be discussed in
a future essay.
[41] Elliot R. Wolfson, “Achronic Time, Messianic
Expectation, and the Secret of the Leap in Ḥabad,” in  Jonatan Meir and Gadi Sagiv, eds., Habad Hasidisim: History, Theology and Image
(Jerusalem: Merkaz Zalman Shazar, forthcoming in 2016), 27fn28.
[42] On Heidegger’s impact on Jewish thinkers, see Richard
Wolin, Heidegger’s Children: Hannah
Arendt, Karl Löwith, Hans Jonas, and Herbert Marcuse
(Princeton: Princeton
University Press, 2003).
[43] See Elliot R. Wolfson, Giving Beyond the Gift: Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania (New
York: Fordham University Press, 2014), 90-154; Elliot R. Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream:
Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of Imagination
(New York: Zone Books, 2011),
32-38, 297-302fn59-74; and Elliot R. Wolfson, Open Secret: Postmessianic Messianism and the Mystical Revision of
Menahem Mendel Schneerson
(New York: Columbia University Press, 2009),
251-252.
For an earlier approach to the influence of Jewish mysticism
on the thought of Emmanuel Levinas, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Secrecy, Modesty,
and the Feminine: Kabbalistic Traces in the Thought of Levinas,” in Kevin Hart
and Michael A. Signer, eds., The
Exorbitant: Emmanuel Levinas Between Jews and Christians
(New York: Fordham
University Press, 2010), 52-73. See also Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic
Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination
(New York: Fordham University Press,
2005), 432fn362. The specific impact that Levinas’s thought has had on
Wolfson’s will be discussed in a future essay.
[44] On Derrida’s Jewishness and the Jewishness of Derrida,
see John D. Caputo, The Prayers and Tears
of Jacques Derrida
(Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1997), 230-263;
see Bettina Bergo, Joseph Cohen, and Raphael Zagury-Orly, eds., Judeities: Questions for Jacques Derrida
(New York: Fordham University Press, 2007); Gideon Ofrat, The Jewish Derrida, trans. Peretz Kidron (Syracuse: Syracuse
University Press, 2001); Geoffrey Bennington and Jacques Derrida, Jacques Derrida (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1993), 292-297. For Derrida’s own treatment of the Jewishness of
his thought, see Jacques Derrida, Archive
Fever: A Freudian Impression
, trans. Eric Prenowitz (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1996); and Geoffrey Bennington and Jacques Derrida, Jacques Derrida (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1993).
[45] Wolfson utilizes the Derridian notion of
inclusion-through-exclusion to describe his relationship with the organized
aspect of Jewish religion. While this dialectic of presence/absence demands a
more significant treatment, see Wolfson’s autobiographical comments in Elliot
R. Wolfson by Aubrey Glazer, “What does Heidegger’s Anti-Semitism mean for
Jewish Philosophy?” Religion Dispatches (3
April 2014), online here; and Interview With Elliot R. Wolfson, July 25, 2012, in
Hava Tirosh Samuelson and Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson: Poetic Thinking (Leiden: Brill, 2015). For an
exhaustive treatment of antinomianism and hypernomianism as it relates to the
Jewish mystical tradition see, Elliot R. Wolfson, Venturing Beyond: Morality and Law in Kabbalistic Mysticism (New
York: Oxford University Press, 2006).
[46] On Derrida, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Giving Beyond the Gift: Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania (New
York: Fordham University Press, 2014), 155-200. For an earlier approach on the
influence of kabbalah on Derrida’s thought, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Assaulting
the Border: Kabbalistic Traces in the Margins of Derrida,” Journal of the American Academy of Religion 70:3 (September 2002):
475-514. For an analysis of Derrida’s famous phrase, “there is nothing outside
of the text,” see Elliot R. Wolfson, “From Sealed Book to Open Text: Time,
Memory, and Narrativity in Kabbalistic Hermeneutics,” in Steven Kepnes, ed., Interpreting Judaism in a Postmodern Age
(New York University Press, 1995), 145-178.
[47] In private discussion with the author.
[48] Regarding the role of gender in Jewish mysticism, see
Elliot R. Wolfson, Circle in the Square:
Studies in the Use of Gender in Kabbalistic Symbolism
(Albany: State
University of New York Press, 1995). Aside from the essays compiled in this
volume, Wolfson has continued to devote much time and effort to this aspect of
his scholarship, see for example, Elliot R. Wolfson,  “Woman—The Feminine As Other in Theosophic
Kabbalah: Some Philosophical Observations on the Divine Androgyne,” in Lawrence
J. Silberstein and Robert L. Cohn, eds.,
The Other in Jewish Thought and
History: Constructions of Jewish Culture and Identity
(New York: New York
University Press, 1994), 166-204; Elliot R. Wolfson, “Crossing Gender
Boundaries in Kabbalistic Ritual and Myth,” in Mortimer Ostow, Ultimate Intimacy: The Psychodynamics of
Jewish Mysticism
(London: Karnac Books, 1995), 255-337; and Elliot R.
Wolfson, “Occultation of the Feminine and the Body of Secrecy in Medieval
Kabbalah,” in Elliot R. Wolfson, ed., Rending
the Veil: Concealment and Revelation of Secrets in the History of Religions
(New
York and London: Seven Bridges Press, 1999), 113-154. Many more sources could
be cited.
[49] Wolfson has responded to the various critics of his
stance in numerous places within his scholarship. See for example, Elliot R.
Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a
Dream: Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of Imagination
(New York: Zone Books,
2011), 439fn65; Elliot R. Wolfson, Luminal
Darkness: Imaginal Gleanings from Zoharic Literature
(Oxford: Oneworld,
2007), 254fn26; Elliot R. Wolfson, Language,
Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination
(New York:
Fordham University Press, 2005), 136, 486fn191; Elliot R. Wolfson, Pathwings: Philosophic and Poetic
Reflections on the Hermeneutics of Time and Language
(Barrytown, NY:
Barrytown/Station Hill Press, 2004), 248fn53; and most recently in Elliot R.
Wolfson, “Patriarchy and the Motherhood of God in Zoharic Kabbalah and Meister
Eckhart,” in Ra’anan S. Boustan, et al., eds., Envisioning Judaism: Studies in Honor of Peter Schäfer on the Occasion
of his Seventieth Birthday
, vol. 2 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013),
1049-1088, esp. 1058-1059fn30.
[50] See for example, Arthur Green, “Kabbalistic Re-Vision:
A Review Article of Elliot Wolfson’s Through
a Speculum That Shines
,” History of
Religions
36:3 (February 1997): 265-274; Melila Hellner-Eshed, A River Flows from Eden: The Language of
Mystical Experience in the Zohar
(Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press,
2009), 347-356.
[51] See Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination (New
York: Fordham University Press, 2005), 1-45.
[52]  See Elliot R.
Wolfson, Open Secret: Postmessianic
Messianism and the Mystical Revision of Menahem Mendel Schneerson
(New
York: Columbia University Press, 2009), 200-223; for the most recent
explication of Wolfson’s stance on this issue, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Phallic
Jewissance and the Pleasure of No Pleasure” (forthcoming in 2015). It is
important to note that this is a rudimentary treatment of one of the more
complex areas in Wolfson’s thought. The potential capacity of undoing the gender-valence
inherent within the mystical tradition has yet to be fully unfolded. This will
be addressed in a future essay.
[53] Interview with David Novak, in Hava Tirosh Samuelson
and Aaron W. Hughes, David Novak: Natural
Law and Revealed Torah
(Leiden: Brill, 2013), 118-119.
[54] On the significance of walking/wandering in Jewish
mystical thought, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Walking as a Sacred Duty: Theological
Transformation of Social Reality in Early Hasidism,” in Ada Rapoport-Albert,
ed., Hasidism Reappraised (London:
Littman Library, 1997), 180-207.
[55]  Elliot R.
Wolfson, Luminal Darkness: Imaginal
Gleanings from Zoharic Literature
(Oxford: Oneworld, 2007), xvi. For an
extended treatment of this theme, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination (New
York: Fordham University Press, 2005), 46-111. See also Elliot R. Wolfson,
“Ontology, Alterity, and Ethics in Kabbalistic Anthropology,” Exemplaria 12:1 (January 2000): 129-155.
[56] Wolfson has consistently avoided engaging current
sociopolitical issues in his scholarship. This stems from a focus on the
subterranean themes of the dynamic as opposed to the symptomatic expression of
current events.
[57] See Elliot R. Wolfson, “Not Yet Now: Speaking of the End
and the End of Speaking,” in Hava Tirosh Samuelson and Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson: Poetic Thinking (Leiden:
Brill, 2015), 182.
[58] Elliot R. Wolfson, “Nequddat
ha-Reshimu-
The Trace of Transcendence and Transcendence of the Trace: The
Paradox of Simsum in the RaShaB’s Hemshekh Ayin Beit,” Kabbalah 30 (2013): 92, and for an
in-depth analysis of this (non)logic, see 92-98.
It is possible to say that this form of logic that is not
one, the middle excluded by the formal laws of logic, rests at the center of
Wolfson’s thinking. This logic inherent to Wolfson’s treatment of Jewish
Mysticism – in which the identity of opposites is affirmed by the opposite of
identity- is inspired in part by the logic of the Middle Path, or ‘the logic of
not’ expressed in the Mahayana Buddhist tradition. See Elliot R. Wolfson, Open Secret: Postmessianic Messianism and
the Mystical Revision of Menahem Mendel Schneerson
(New York: Columbia
University Press, 2009), 109-114, 247-250; Elliot R. Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream:
Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of Imagination
(New York: Zone Books, 2011),
179-219; Elliot R. Wolfson, Wolfson, Alef,
Mem, Tau: Kabbalistic Musings on Time, Truth and Death
(Berkeley:
University of California Press, 2006), 158-170; Elliot R. Wolfson, Venturing Beyond: Morality and Law in
Kabbalistic Mysticism
(New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), 170-176,
232-247.
[59] Elliot R. Wolfson, Giving
Beyond the Gift: Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania
(New York: Fordham
University Press, 2014), xxiii.
[60]  Wolfson expands
on this notion in a lecture at the historic Rothko Chapel in Houston, “The Path
Beyond the Path: Mysticism and the Spiritual Quest for Universal Singularity,”
delivered on 7 April 2011), available online here.
See as well, Elliot R. Wolfson, Language,
Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination
(New York:
Fordham University Press, 2005), 288-289.
[61]  See Elliot R.
Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being:
Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination
(New York: Fordham
University Press, 2005), 233-234.
[62]  The usage of the
word ‘feverish’ is inspired by the Derridian notion of fever as unending memory
of the immemorial futurity; see Jacques Derrida, Archive Fever: A Freudian Impression, trans. Eric Prenowitz
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996).
[63]  The topic of
Nothingness is found too frequently throughout Wolfson’s scholarship to source
exhaustively; for example, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Nihilating Nonground and the
Temporal Sway of Becoming: kabbalisticly envisioning nothing beyond nothing,” Angelaki 17:3 (2012): 31-45; Elliot R.
Wolfson, “Negative Theology and Positive Assertion in the Early Kabbalah,” Da’at 32-33 (1994): V-XXII (English);
Elliot R. Wolfson, Open Secret:
Postmessianic Messianism and the Mystical Revision of Menahem Mendel Schneerson
(New York: Columbia University Press, 2009), 75-82, 113-115; Elliot R.
Wolfson, Giving Beyond the Gift:
Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania
(New York: Fordham University Press,
2014), 75-87; Elliot R. Wolfson, Language,
Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination
(New York:
Fordham University Press, 2005), 173-186; Elliot R. Wolfson, Venturing Beyond: Morality and Law in
Kabbalistic Mysticism
(New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), 212-215;
Elliot R. Wolfson, Wolfson, Alef, Mem,
Tau: Kabbalistic Musings on Time, Truth and Death
(Berkeley: University of
California Press, 2006), 36-39, 167-168, 234fn12; and Elliot R. Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream:
Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of Imagination
(New York: Zone Books, 2011),
229-239.
[64]  See Elliot R.
Wolfson, “Nihilating Nonground and the Temporal Sway of Becoming: kabbalisticly
envisioning nothing beyond nothing,” Angelaki
17:3 (2012): 31-45.
[65]
To condense Wolfson’s thought on language into a paragraph, or even a
footnote is as impossible as it is improper. Few thinkers have engaged in the
linguistic path of (un)showing the limit of language while simultaneously
utilizing language in its own disavowal, as Wolfson has. Speaking from within
and beyond the philosophers of language, including but not limited to
Heidegger, Wittgenstein, Derrida, Levinas, Blanchot, Celan, Buber, Foucault,
Jabes, Kristeva, and Lacan; Wolfson has uncovered new, impossible vistas in
which the hermeneutics of language may be thought anew. To attempt a listing of
Wolfson’s thought on language would be to miss the liminal nature of what can
properly be called “Wolfsonian Language.” For an introduction, see Elliot R.
Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being:
Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination
(New York: Fordham
University Press, 2005), 1-44.
[66]  The primacy of
imagination in Wolfson’s scholarship has already been noted in Aaron W. Hughes,
“Elliot R. Wolfson: An Intellectual Portrait,”
in Hava Tirosh Samuelson and Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson: Poetic Thinking (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 1-33. See
as well Jeffrey J. Kripal, “The Mystical Mirror of Hermeneutics: Gazing into
Elliot Wolfson’s Speculum,” in Roads of Excess, Palaces of Wisdom:
Eroticism and Reflexivity in the Study of Mysticism
(Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 2001), 258-298. This is testified by the fact that nearly all of
Wolfson’s published books contain some reference to the imaginative faculty.
For example, Elliot R. Wolfson, Language,
Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination
(New York:
Fordham University Press, 2005); Elliot R. Wolfson, Luminal Darkness: Imaginal Gleanings from Zoharic Literature (Oxford:
Oneworld, 2007); Elliot R. Wolfson, A
Dream Interpreted Within a Dream: Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of Imagination
(New
York: Zone Books, 2011). For an overview of Wolfson’s thoughts on imagination,
see Elliot R. Wolfson, Giving Beyond the
Gift: Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania
(New York: Fordham University
Press, 2014), 1-14. The primary treatment of imagination can be found in Elliot
R. Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a
Dream: Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of Imagination
(New York: Zone Books,
2011).
[67] Elliot R. Wolfson has published two poetry collections
thus far. Elliot R. Wolfson, Pathwings:
Philosophic and Poetic Reflections on the Hermeneutics of Time and Language
(Barrytown,
NY: Barrytown/Station Hill Press, 2004), and Elliot R. Wolfson, Footdreams & Treetales: Ninety-Two Poems
(New York: Fordham University Press, 2007). Wolfson’s third collection of
poetry, On One Foot Dancing, can be
found online here. For an in-depth analysis of Wolfson’s poetics, see
Barbara Ellen Galli, On the Wings of
Moonlight: Elliot R. Wolfson’s Poetry in the Path of Rosenzweig and Celan
(Montreal:
McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2007). For the sake of space, a discussion on
Wolfson’s poetry will be treated in a future essay.

 

[68] For an in-depth treatment of Wolfson’s aesthetics seen
through his scholarship, and vice versa, see, Marcia Brennan, Flowering Light: Kabbalistic Mysticism and
the Art of Elliot R. Wolfson
(Houston: Rice University Press, 2009). A
selection of Wolfson’s art are online here, which is prefaced with: “elliot wolfson has long been
preoccupied with the insights of jewish mystical traditions that approach an
imageless god through the mediation of an intensely visual symbolic imaginary.
his painted canvases communicate a corresponding sense that vision hovers ever
on the borders of appearing and disappearing, disclosure and hiddenness. as the
imagination seeks to give form to what remains nonetheless formless, the
quintessentially human endeavor of hermeneutics is already caught up in the
transcending eros of a divine creativity.”



The Netziv, Reading Newspapers on Shabbos in General & Censorship (Part Three)

The Netziv, Reading Newspapers on Shabbos in General & Censorship (Part Three)
By Eliezer Brodt

This post is devoted to discussing comments received regarding parts one (here) and two (here).  I will also add in some of the material which I had forgotten to quote [some of which I was reminded of by readers] along with additional material that I have recently uncovered. From the outset, I would like to thank all those people who sent in comments regarding the post. My email address is eliezerbrodt@gmail.com; feel free to send comments.
Censorship

To begin, a few people commented in the comments section and others wrote to me disagreeing with Professor S. Stampfer’s “rule” I quoted on the general topic of censorship: “Those who impose censorship presumably assume that they are wiser than the author whose text they wish to suppress”.
In the case of the Netziv, in all of the issues I have mentioned in the past two articles and in the many others I hope to write about, I feel this rule is one hundred percent true. Is there ever a case that censorship is “permitted”? I am sure there is. I will leave all this to discussions about Marc Shapiro’s new book. My concern here is, for example a sefer or other writings which the author himself printed in his own lifetime, quoted newspapers and never as far as we know wrote to take those quotes out. For us to tamper with the authors work that is wrong and thus I invoke Stampfer’s maxim.
In general, on the subject of censorship which relates to educating children and more, it would be apropos to quote an important passage from the Netziv himself:
ואמרתם אלהם. כבר נתבאר בריש הספר לשון ואמרת אליהם שהוא הלכות המקובלות בפרשה, והנה לא מצינו בכל פרשיות שבתורה זה הלשון ואמרתם אליהם, רק דברו אל בני ישראל לאמר, שביאורו שגם אהרן ידבר אותו הפרשה בעל פה בזה הלשון שאמר משה, אבל ואמרתם אליהם, שהוא הלכות ומשניות אינו מן הצורך לכתוב שילמוד אהרן עם ישראל, שהרי כל המשניות ותורה שב”פ חובה על כל רב ללמוד עם תלמידיו, וא”כ למאי כתיב בזו הפרשה ואמרתם אליהם, אלא כלפי שקשה לדבר בעניני זיבה וקרי שהוא באברי הזרע שמתפעלים במחשבה, והיינו סבורים שיותר טוב למעט הדיבור והלמוד בהם, ורק משה הוא מוכרח ללמד לישראל הקבלות שיש לו בע”פ, שלא יאבדו מישראל, אבל אחר שכבר למדם שוב אין המצוה להגות בהם כמצות ת”ת שהמה למצוה אפילו בלי תועלת למעשה ולזכירה, מש”ה כתיב בפרשה זו ואמרתם אליהם, שגם אהרן ילמוד עם ישראל אחר שכבר למד משה בסדר המשנה כמנהגו, וה”ה כל רב לתלמידיו, ומשום שבאמת בלמוד התורה אין יוצא רע והיא אילת אהבים ויעלת חן. [העמק דבר, מצורע, טו:ב]
This passage would possibly also explain why in Volozhin, Moed Kotton was learnt even though it was not learned in some other Yeshivot.[1]
Relying on Berdyczewski & Bialik in Volozhin

Cyril Fotheringay-Phipps has a very valid comment when he wrote:

I find it odd that this blog post describes MYB’s article as “well  written and appears to be a very accurate portrayal of Volozhin” when the post goes on to quote RCB’s letter in which he writes about that same article that he “found it to be full of errors and mistakes”.

This touches upon a few issues.

In the letter I printed from manuscript R’ Chaim Berlin it says:

במכתב גלוי [וב]מכתב חתום, שמתי עיני על מאמרו, “תולדות ישיבת עץ החיים” בהאסיף [שנ]ת תרמ”ז. ומצאתיו מלא טעויות ושגיאות. והנני סופר ומונה אותם, בפרט, [ב]גליון מיוחד, הרצוף הֵנה – כבקשתו.

A translation of this line would be that this article is full of errors and mistakes. However to be fair to Berdyczewski, we have this part of the letter- I printed it at the end of part two. In all there are only four corrections; even more importantly all those corrections relate to side issues – but nothing about daily life in the yeshiva, which is what I am “relying” on in my article.  I would hardly call that a faulty article. Of course it is possible that Berdyczewski did not print the whole letter, However at that time Berdyczewski was not “off the derech” and I doubt he would print publicly an article while R’ Chaim Berlin was alive which could easily be printed elsewhere. [I am sure others will argue for the sake of arguing].

However in a footnote I wrote:

See S. Stampfer’s Lithuanian Yeshivas of the Nineteenth Century, (p. 159) who cites Bialik that everything Berdyczewski wrote in HaAsif about Haskalah was false. However this is a major issue with relying solely upon autobiographical information; each person is referring to the time he was in the Yeshivah and his experience.

Originally I was not planning on going into this topic, but as it relates to all this, I feel clarification is justified.

On Berdyczewski in Volozhin, a fellow student writes:

הוא הסופר העברי העתידי הד”ר מיכה יוסף ברדיצבסקי ז”ל. זה האברך הקטן הצנום, בידו האחת היה מחזיק את הגמרא, ובשניה הוא ומסלסל בפאותיו הקטנות, הולך וחושב מחשבותיו (בודאי מחשבות ומעשים שלו העתידים) [ישיבות ליטא, פרקי זכרונות, עמ’ 124].
Shmuel Mirsky writes:

זכורני, כשמת מיכה יוסף ברדיצ’בסקי הספידוהו ד”ר הוגו ברגמן ור’ אלתר דרויאנוב. הראשון דיבר על ברדיצ’בסקי שהיה חי בשני עולמות, והשני אמר שהוא הכירו בשני העולמות גם יחד, והוסיף שכשלמד בוולאזין היה יושב מעוטף בטלית ומוכתר בתפילין ולומד, ואעפי”כ הכיר בו הנצי”ב שהוא מעולם אחר, והוא צדק [מוסדות תורה באירופה, עמ’ 61]
In a memoir written by a student of Volozhin we find that he writes about the article of Berdyczewski:
הנה התגלגל לידי האסיף לשנת התרמ”ז ובהחומר הנאסף שם במאמר מיוחד על ידי מר מיכה יוסף ברדיטשבסקי לתולדות ישיבת ולזין נאמר… החמר נאסף ממקרות ראשונים ומדויקים ויש לו ערך היסטורי שלם בלא שום פקפוק [ישיבות ליטא, פרקי זכרונות, עמ’ 71].[2]
Bialik writes in a letter written while he was learning in Volozhin about Berdyczewski’s essay:

וכל מה שכתוב ברדיטשבסקי להאסיף, לא מניה ולא מקצתיה… [אגרות חיים נחמן ביאליק, א, תרצח, עמ’ כא-כב].
In an autobiographical essay Bialik writes a bit more:

תחלה לוולאזין ואח”כ לברלין. ולמה וואלאזין מפני שכפי השמועה לומדים שם בוואלאזין, יחד אם התלמוד גם שבע חכמות ושבעים לשון, בגליו או בסתר… תקותי לא באה. בוואלאזין אין זכר לשבע חכמות ולשבעים לשון, אבל יש שם בחורים כמוני, וטובים או רעים ממני, שיושבים ולמודים גמרא, גמרא, גמרא… [ספר ביאליק, תל-אביב תרצד, עמ’ 80-81].
Menachem Zlotkin, another student of Volozhin writes about this essay:

 שכל אלו שכתבו על בניה הישיבה בוולוז’ין ונתנו לנו את תמונתם, התמונות והציורים האלה אינם אלא של חלק קטן מתלמידי הישיבה, של הבחורים והאברכים הידועים להם מקרוב, ולא של הרוב הגדול של תלמידי הישיבה. בכתיבת ציורים כאלה הצטיין ביחוד הסופר מיכה יוסף ברדיטשבסקי, שנתן בהאסיף, ובהכרם תמונות של תלמידי הישיבה, שלא התאימו כלל למה שהיו באמת כפי שכתב ביאליק מוולוז’ן… על פי הציורים האלה היה מקבל הקורא את הרושם כאילו היתה ישיבת וולוז’ין, באותה תקופה, משתלה של משכילים, וכל הבא לוולוז’ין התמשכל מיד ונעשה חכם בשבע חכמות. קריאת ציורים כאלה היתה בודאי גורמת צער לראשי הישיבה ולתלמידי הישיבה שהיו רחוקים מרחק רב מהשכלה ומלימודי חול, ולא באו לוולוז’ין אלא כדי להשתלם בלימוד התלמוד ולא יותר… [פרקי זכרונות, עמ’ 183-184].
It appears from Zlotkin and Bialik that at least one aspect of Berdyczewski’s essay was not correct.
I would venture to disagree, as anyone who learned in any particular Yeshivah and left and decides to follow up a few years later about life in said Yeshiva will usually find that some things change – different crowds bring different habits and the like. It’s very possible when Berdyczewski was in Yeshiva, Haskalah was being learnt in Volozin and when Bialik got there, there was not.
 Furthermore another student of Volozhin who learned there at the same time as Bialik writes:

חדר הכרמלית שלהם נעשה רשות הרבים שבני הישיבה היו מצויים בו תמיד, מקום כינוס לתמימי דעים, בית ועד לאנשי שלומנו, מעין מרכז לעסקנות ולהשכלה. מכאן נשלחו בשם הישיבה מכתבי תנחומים למשפחות הנפטרים: רש”י פין צ”ה גרץ ול’ פינסקר מכאן יצאה ההתעוררות לאסוף כסף בתוך הישיבה לתמיכתו של יעקב רייפמן לעת זקנתו, פה נאגדו אגודות למינוי על עתונים, ולהפצת ספרי אגורה של בן אביגדור שהתחילו להופיע בשנה ההיא. בכל יום ויום היו בחורים מתכנסים לשם, ודנים ומתוכחים על דברי קודש וחול, על עניני הישיבה ועל עניני האומה, על עניני הכלל ועל עניני הפרט. חומר לשיחות שימשו מאמרים ראשיים, ושאר מאמרים ודברי סופרים שבעתונים ובמאספים ובספרים… [פרקי זכרונות, עמ’ 165]
Even more strange is Zlotkin in the aforementioned  account, a mere few pages later also mentions a few times (pp. 187-188)[3] that there was haskalah being learned in Bialik’s time, so I am not sure what exactly the issue with Berdyczewski was – maybe it was he made it out to be even more.  As far as Haskalah being learned in Volzohin, there is no need to deal with it as it has been dealt with properly by Jacob J. Schacter in his frequently quoted article “Haskalah, Secular Studies and the Close of the Yeshiva in Volozhin in 1892“, Torah u-Madda Journal 2 (1990), pp. 76-133 and S. Stampfer, Lithuanian Yeshivas of the Nineteenth Century.
Bochurim knowing what went on in the Netziv’s home

Cyril Fotheringay-Phipps wrote regarding a further issue:

I continue to disagree with your assumptions about what people knew or didn’t know about what the Netziv did in his house. I don’t think there was nothing to talk about in Volhozhin besides what the Netziv did, but even if there was, that wouldn’t apply to things that they wouldn’t have a basis to know about and didn’t impact them. And even if they did know certain things of this sort, that doesn’t mean that they were in a position to rule out the Netziv engaging in some activity if an insider claimed he had done so. (Especially since the MB was published decades after Volhozhin closed.)
First, here is an account of a fellow student of Volozhin who read the accounts of R’ Epstein:
חבל מאד שגדולינו אדירי התורה והחכמה שקבלו חינוכם בישיבת וואלוזין לא העניקו לנו מזכרונתיהם על הישיבה הזאת, שבודאי ערכם רב לתולדות ישראל, ואלה החיים ב”ה אתנו, כדאי היה שיתקנו וימלאו את חובתם זו. עד היום לא נמצא איש שיאסף את כל החומר לתולדות ישיבת וולאוזין, אם כי אמנם חומר רב יש בספר הגאוני מקור ברוך לר’ ברוך הלוי אפשטיין, גיסו וקרובו של הנצי”ב. אבל לא די החומר הזה, ואולי עוד יוסיף תת לנו החכם הנ”ל ספר מיוחד לתולדות הישיבה [ישיבות ליטא, פרקי זכרונות, עמ’ 126]

As I have written in the past, relying on this work is a topic that much has been written about and perhaps I will return to one day.

However, in regard to what I wrote about the Bochurim watching every move of the Netziv, one talmid of Volozhin writes in his memoirs:

מנהגים קלים של כפרות ושל תשליך, שרבים מגדולי ישראל קוראים להם מנהגים של שטות, היו מדקדקים בהם בכל זאת כבחמורות, וקראו עבריין למי שעבר עליהם ולא נזהר בהם. ובולוז’ין העמידו התלמידים משמרות על בית הרב בערב יום הכיפורים ובראש השנה, כדי לאמת את השמועה שאין נוהגים בו מנהג של כפרות ושל תשליך… [פרקי זכרונות, עמ’ 174].

It could be you (CFP) personally did not do so when you were in yeshivah, but from what I hear it’s still done by many bochurim.

Why did the Netziv read newspapers?

Another commenter wrote:

What’s the big deal if the Netziv read “newspapers” such as HaLevanon or HaMaggid? It’s not like we’re talking about The NY Post or The Seattle Times. I’d consider them to be closer to something like a blend of the Me’asef and The Jerusalem Report which, apparently, the Netziv didn’t feel was a problem.

To be fair I did not say it’s a big deal if the Netziv read newspapers, merely that some appear to feel it was a big deal and decided to cover it up. This gives me an excuse to talk about the Netziv! I would also like to emphasize something I have not yet done. The Netziv was one of the greatest gedolim of the past 200 hundred years. In the future I will elaborate at length about this subject. One of the most impressive attributes that everyone who knew him writes about was his tremendous Hasmadah, how he did not waste any time. For over forty years, he ran the largest Yeshivah in Europe, dealing with most of its daily issues, traveling often to defend the Yeshivah and at the same time giving shiur a few times a week and a daily Chumash Shiur. He also penned dozens of letters daily, was a world renowned posek and wrote and published numerous works. All this, making him one of (if not the most) prolific litvish author(s). It bears noting his concluding remark he signed most of his letters with:
העמוס בעבודה.

One student relates:

אף בלכתו מביתו להישיבה שהיה מהלך של חמשים רגל, היה מחזיק בידו את התנ”ך הקטן, או המשניות בפורמאט קטן ומעיין בו [פרקי זכרונות, עמ’ 125].[4]
Yet he found time to read and comment in newspapers. He obviously felt it was very important, as it gave him a window to the world which he needed to understand. His son R’ Meir Bar Ilan writes:
קריאת העתונים היתה לו לא בילוי זמן, אלא כפי הנראה צורך פנימי להיות קרוב לכל מה שמתרחש בעולם הגדול. מטבעו לא היה זר לעולם, לכל דבר שאירע כל עוד לא מצא בזה סתירה לאהבת התורה [מוולוזין עד ירושלים, א, עמ’ 138].
If one wishes to understand what newspapers were like in those days, one need go no further than to peruse the thousands of issues that are currently on-line. Perhaps at a later date I will elaborate on this subject, for now see Roni Beer Marx, Between Seclusion and Adaption; The Newspaper Halevanon and East European Orthodox Society’s Facing Up to Modern Challenges,(Heb.)PhD. Dissertation, Hebrew University, 2011. After reading this dissertation, one can understand much more the types of newspapers, importance of newspapers and why the gedolim needed to read them.
To be clear, I never said these newspapers were similar to the NY Post or the like.
Did the Netziv read other parts of the Newspapers besides for the Torah sections?

Cyril Fotheringay-Phipps writes further:

Regarding the Netziv and RCB reading newspapers on Shabbos, it would appear that these newspapers contained a section of Torah writing and all examples of the Netziv referencing them apparently refer to those sections (unless I’ve missed something). It’s worth bearing this in mind before conjuring up images of the Netziv reading something like the NYT on Shabbos.

Once again I must disagree. It is clear that the Netziv read these newspapers cover to cover and not just the Torah sections. If one looks at the some of the articles the Netziv wrote in the Papers, collected in Igrot HaNetziv Me-Volozhin, one will see he comments on different things he read in different parts of the various papers.[5]

I would like to point to a few places in his work on Chumash that the information he is using is from the non-Torah parts of these papers. Many of these papers had sections dealing with science, nature and other worldly issues.[6] Of course, it is very possible that some of this information he could [or did] have gotten from other sources.

See for example the following passages[7]:

א. ויברא וגו’ למינהם. הודיע הכתוב דאע”ג דבשעת מאמר הקב”ה. יצאו כמה מיני בריות במים ובעוף. מ”מ גם אח”כ הוסיף הקב”ה לברוא מאלו אשר יצאו כבר במאמר כמה מינים. כגון תרנגול שיצא במאמר ברא בו ה’ כמה מינים באותו תכונה של תרנגול וכולם מין א’ לענין הרכבה כידוע. וכן בכל הנזכרים בזה המקרא הוא כן [העמק דבר, בראשית א:כא]
ב. עפר מן האדמה. קיבץ מכל חלקי האדמה עפר מזה המקום מעט ומזה מעט. ולא ככל בהמה וחיה. וכדאי’ בסנהדרין דל”ח א’ אדם הראשון מכל העולם כולו והצבר עפרו. וטעמו של דבר שמשונה טבע האדם מכל בהמה וחיה שאינם יכולים לחיות אלא באקלים של כל בריה לפי טבעו. ובאותו אקלים הוא נוצר (וע’ מ”ש להלן ו’ י”ב) משא”כ האדם נוצר באופן שיהא יכול לחיות בכל העולם בין במקום היותר קר בין במקום שיותר חם וניזונים בכל אופן שהמקום גורם… [העמק דבר בראשית, ב:ז]
ג. והנה נשחתה כי השחית וגו’. הכי מיבעי וירא אלהים כי השחית כל בשר. אלא ה”פ שראה כי גם אדמת הארץ נשחתה מטבעה שהטביע הבורא ית’ להספיק מזון לכל הברואים והנה אבדה כחה. ופי’ הטעם משום שהשחית כל בשר את דרכו וטבעו. כי כל בריה יש לה טבע מיוחדת במזונותיה ואויר הראוי לה. וכך טבע האדמה אשר הם עליה וכמש”כ לעיל ב’ ז’ י”ט. אבל כאשר השחיתו בדור הלז כל המינין ע”י הרכבות זרות את טבעון ודרכן על הארץ ממילא נשחתה האדמה לפניהם. וע”ע מש”כ לעיל ה’ כ”ט [העמק דבר, נח, ו:יב]
ד. וימח את כל היקום. נמחו הגופות ודייק הכתוב אשר על פני האדמה דוקא אלו שהיו מונחים על פני האדמה. אבל נשתיירו כמה גופות שנפל עליהם עפר הרבה ע”י שטף המים ונשארו הגופות קיימין. והן הנה עצמות שמוצאין חופרי ארץ ומוצאין עצמות מבריות שלא נמצא עתה בעולם. ומזה שפטו הרבה שהי’ לפני בריאה זו עולם אחר ואז היו בריות אחרות… ומה שמוצאין בריות משונות הוא ממה שהרכיבו שני מינים שונים ונולד ע”י זה בריות משונות כמו הפרד היוצא מהרכבת סוס וגמל… [העמק דבר, נח, ז:כג]
ה. ובכה ובעמך ובכל עבדיך יעלו הצפרדעים. גם בהיותם בבתיך שמה יוסיפו לעלות. היינו שיולידו שם הרבה כמותם. וכדכתיב בתהלים (ק”ה) שרץ ארצם צפרדעים בחדרי מלכיהם. היינו בחדרי מלכיהם שרצו. וכאן כתיב ובעמך בשו”א היינו עם מיוחד שומרי ראש פרעה. ומש”ה כתיב בזה המקרא קודם לבכל עבדיך. משום דחשיבי יותר. וזה המכה היתירה לא שלטה בכל עמי פרעה אלא בו תחלה ובשומרי ראשו ובעבדיו המה שרי יועציו. והנה ידוע דעות שונות בין מפרשים ראשונים ז”ל אם היו הצפרדעים מין הידוע המשחית הנמצא עוד היום ביאור ונקרא (קראקאדיל) או הוא מין הנמצא ברובי הנהרות וצועקים ומכרכרים… [העמק דבר, וארא, ז:כט][8].
 ו. לא תקיפו וגו’ ולא תשחית וגו’. מנהגם היה להשמר בשערות הראש והזקן כמו שעוד היום מנהג בני ישמעאל כך ומי שהוא איש המעלה משמר ביותר שלא יגע באיזה שערות הפאות והזקן לרעה… [העמק דבר, קדושים, יט: כז]
ז. את חקתי תשמורו. כפי’ חז”ל ברבה ר”פ אם בחקתי חוקותי שחקקתי שמים וארץ. כך הפי’ כאן כמבואר ברבה החקים שחקקתי עולמי בטבע כל אחד. והמערב מין בשא”מ ה”ז משחית טבעם כמש”כ ר”פ נח עה”פ את הארץ והנה נשחתה כי השחית כל בשר את דרכו עה”א. וכן לבישת שעטנז משחית סגולת חוטי צמר ופשתים וממה שהיה בפ”ע. והוא מסתרי הטבע וידועים לחכמי הטבע…. [העמק דבר, קדושים, יט:יט]

In the additions to the HD the Netziv adds to the last sentence:

שהקושר חוט שזור של צמר ופשתים יחד על חוט הברזל של הטעלעגראף מפסיק המשכת הדיבור שנדבר ממרחק, הרי הוא משנה טבע הברזל וחקי הטבע שבברזל, ומכ”מ אינו אסור…
ח. ושרט לנפש לא תתנו בבשרכם. מנהג האוה”ע לעשות הוספת צער למת שריטות על הבשר של אדם חי. וגם לעשות זכרון ע”י כתב קעקע שם המת. ומי שלא רצה לעשות על בשרו היה שוכר אדם אחר עני לעשות על בשרו ומשלם לו כמו שעוד היום הנהג שם לשכור מקוננות ומתופפות על הלב… [העמק דבר, קדושים, יט: כח]
ט. ונתנה הארץ יבולה. לא כתיב פריה כמו לעיל כ”ה י”ט. דפרי הארץ אחר עבודת הארץ אינו שכר מצוין שהרי כך דרך העולם אלא יבולה משמעו הולכה ממקום למקום כמש”כ לעיל בפי’ יובל. ונכלל בזה פירות שאין באים ע”י הזריעה וגידול במקומו אלא ממציאים כחות הארץ מרחוק ומעומק עד שנעשו הפירות גדלים מהרגלן וכמו שידוע שיש לזה המצאות מאומנים במלאכת גידולי הארץ… [העמק דבר, בחוקתי, פרק כו:ד].
יא. הוא משל על אוהל אנשי יעקב. והנה משונה גידולי גנה לשדה. דשדה אינו נזרע אלא מין א’ או שנים משא”כ זרעוני גינה המה רבים. מכ”מ כל גן יש בו מין א’ שהוא העיקר אלא שסביביו נזרע עוד הרבה מינים מעט מעט… והיינו שהמשיל כל א’ מאנשי יעקב כגנה שיש בה מין מיוחד ומכ”מ מלאה מינים רבים. אמנם גנה שאינה על הנהר ממהרת לשנות צורתה. ועלי ירקות נובלים מהר ונראים כמושים. אבל שעל הנהר בכל בוקר מתחדש ומתחזק ביופי גידול כל ירק… והנה כבר המשיל הכתוב בפרשת שופטים כי האדם עץ השדה אמנם יש ד’ מיני עצים. א’ הוא קוץ מונד אשר לא ביד יקחו שאין בהם תועלת. ולא נבראו אלא כדי להזיק לאחרים ולהיות כברזל ועץ חנית. היינו מזיקים בעצמם או משמשים למזיקים. או לשרוף אותם להחם בם בימי שבת היינו בעת מנוחה… ב’ עץ האטד. שחסים בצל ענפיו ועליו וכדומה לו… ג’ עץ פרי… אבל אין נהנים מגוף האילן בקיומו. ד’ ארז שנהנים מגוף האילן בבנין וכדומה…. ויש ארז טוב לתורן עלי מים…[העמק דבר, בלק, כד:ו]
יב. יזל מים וגו’. אחר שהראהו הקב”ה שבחן של בניו. הראהו שבחי הדורות משעה שנכנסו לארץ עד ימי משיח שיבא ב”ב. ולא ראה ימי הרעה רק ימי הטובה כדי לנקר את עיניו ונגמר זה הענין בפעם הרביעית. ואמר על דור השופטים שהיה להם מלחמות וגלו הרבה בקרב אוה”ע. ואנו לא ידענו ועוד היום יש מקומות שנמצאים ישראל שאומרים שהן מזמן פילגש בגבעה…[9] [העמק דבר, בלק, כד:ז]
יג. וחכמים התרים את התבל מעידים שיש עוד היום במדבר סלע מוציא מים אלא שלא בשפע כ”כ… [העמק דבר, חקת,  כ: ח]
יד. כי תצא למלחמה על אויביך. בפרשה הקודמת למדנו שני אופני מלחמות. א’ במלחמת תנופה שיוצאים במחנה מול מחנה. ובזה כתיב כי תצא למלחמה על אויבך וראית סוס וגו’. ב’ שמצירים על עיר ובזה כתיב כי תצור על עיר. ומדכתיב כאן כי תצא למלחמה על אויבך. מבואר דמיירי באופן הראשון. ולא כמש”כ הראב”ע. מעתה יש להבין דלפי הנראה ענין פרשה זו שייך יותר במלחמת מצור על עיר מלאה אנשים ונשים וכשנפתחה והרי רואה אשה יפ”ת. משא”כ כשיוצאים במלחמה בשדה מה לנשים בשם. אבל כבר ביארנו בס’ בראשית י”ד ט”ז שדרכם היה באוה”ע. בעת שיוצאים בחורים למלחמה יוצאות ג”כ נשים יפות מקושטות ועומדות לינשא. ומי בחור שמזדרז במלחמה ורוח גבורה נוססה בו. קופצות עליו נשים היפות. ועפ”י זה מתחרים הבחורים בעוז. והיינו דכתיב שמלת שביה. ומשמעות שמלה בכ”מ בגד חשוב כמו ושמת שמלותיך עליך. ומשום שהיו מתקשטות וכשלוקחים אותן בשביה נמצאות בקישוטן. משא”כ במלחמת מצור ואין הבחורים עושים מלחמה ודבר גבורה ומה להנשים להתקשט אז בשעת השבי [העמק דבר, כי תצא, כא:י]
More additions and comments related to part one:
Additions to note six about the Journal ‘Ittur Sofrim’
Here are parts of the fourth part of the journal which was never published.
Addition to note ten:

About the Netziv’s letters see; Mekor Baruch, 4, pp. 2000-2010.
Moshe Tzinovitz writes:

בקשר לכתיבת מכתביו יש לציין, כי בכל מכתב ומכתב היה כותב פרט מיוחד מפרשת השבוע, כשהוא מתאים תמיד לתוכנו המכתב ולאיש שאליו נערך המכתב [עץ חיים, עמ’ 238].
Rabbi Chaim Berlin writes in his Hesped on the Netziv:

אבל תלמיד חכם יחיד בדורו… הרי שמו הולך מסוף העולם עד סופו, הוא השליט בכל דבר הוראה, בתשובותיו לכל אפסי ארץ… לכולם היה רב מובהק… [דרשות הנצי”ב, עמ’ קמה].
לכתוב כל הלילה חידושי תורה ותשובות, ומכתבים לחזק הישיבה… וכמה מכתבים פיזר בענין ישוב ארץ ישראל… [דרשות הנצי”ב, עמ’ קמו].[10]
 Rabbi Meir Bar Ilan writes:

בין עשרות המכתבים, ממש עשרות שאבא ז”ל היה כותב כמעט בכל יום בעצם ידו… היו רבים לא תשובות בדברי הלכה, גם לא בעניני הישיבה, אלא תשובות לשאלות בענינים מסויימים של כלל ישראל או בעניני הקהילה בערים שונות… לצערנו לא היה אז המנהג להעתיק את המכתבים, וכל אלפי המכתבים שהיו יכולים לשמש מקור לחקר החיים התרבותיים במשך שני דורות אבדו…
דעתו היתה שונה ממחשבותים של רוב רבנים… מדפסים שו”ת שלהם, וכמה מהם קנו שם בעולם רק על ידי התשובות. אבא ז”ל לא התייחס לזה בחיבה יתירה הוא היה אומר כשפונים בשאלה יש להשיב, ואם יש דברים שאינם פשוטים מן הראוי כמובן לברר את ההלכה על פי המקורות, אבל לעשות מתשובה או שאלה חיבר שלם עם ענפים או סניפים כמו שהיו מחברים גדולים ידועים נוהגים לעשות אז הרי זה קצת יותר מדי… דבר זה מוכיח, כי אין הכוונה להשיב על השאלה אלא לחבר ספרים ולהראות גדולה… נוסף לזה לא היה אבא ז”ל מחשיב הרבה כתיבת חיבורים והדפסתם רק לשם פירסום והיה אומר מה ערך יש לזה כשכל אחד יפרסם בדפוס כל מה שהוא כותב ומוצא חן בעיניו, הרי על זה נאמר עשות ספרים הרבה אין קץ… [מוולוז’ין עד ירושלים, א, עמ’ 137-138][11].
Elsewhere Rabbi Meir Bar Ilan writes:

Addition for note 22: In regard to Chumash being learnt in Volozhin

Reb Itzeleh Volozhiner writes in his introduction to Nefesh Ha-Chaim about his father Reb Chaim Volozhiner:

לא הניח ידו מלהגיד לבני עירו אחר תפלת השחר פרשה מסדרא דשבוע יום יום. וכל הנכנסין לביהמ”ד יצאו מלא דבר כשאר כ”א קלט לפי דרכו. אוהבי הפשט קלטו עומק פשוטו במקרא. ודורשי הרשומים דרוש דרשו ממה שלקחה אזנם. מה שנזרקה מפיו מדי דברו בקצרה. וכל השומעים שמחו במתק שפתיו אשר ברור מללו כקורא הפרשה לפני תשב”ר.

A student of Reb Itzeleh Volozhiner writes:

ומדי דברי בה אזכור ימי נעורי ועד היום לא אשכח את רגשי העונג, עת אשר בכל יום ויום ראיתי אה הגאון הגדול הקדוש… הנעלה על כל בני דורו מו”ה יצחק זצל”ה מוואלאזין יורה לנו בבקר בבקר הפרשה חומש מפרשת השבוע עפ”י פשוטו של מקרא הממשיך את הלב, מי שלא ראה את פני הגאון הנ”ל אשר תואר פנים כפני מלאך אלקים, ומי שלא שמע מדברותיו המרעיפים כטל וכמטר לקחו לא יכול לצייר עונג הנפש ורחשי לב טהור שברא לנו אלקים… [המליץ, שנה יז, יום כג אדר, גליון ו, תרמ”א, עמ’ 119].
Another talmid writes:

דרכו של הגאון מהרי”ץ הי’ להתפלל ביום השבת בבהמ”ד של הקהל ואחר התפלה הי’ מגיד פרשה אחת מן הסדר של יום והיו כל בני הישיבה הולכים לבהמ”ד לשמוע הדרוש [ר’ אליהו לעווינזאהן, מכתב מאליהו, עמ’ 47].
R’ Simcha Edelman (father of the Marcheshes) writes:
נהירנא כד הוינא בר שיתסר למדתי בקיץ תקצז בישיבת וולאזין והרב הגאון האב”ד מ’ יצחק ז”ל הגיד לפני התלמידים יום יום אחר תפלת השחר פרשה בתורה מסדר השבוע ושמעתי מפיו… [התירוש, ג, עמ’ 155].
Additions to the sources in note 22 about the Netziv’s Chumash shiur:

הוא זכה ללמד תורה ברבים בישיבת עץ החיים אשר באוואלאזין כיובל שנים והעמיד לאלפים בישראל ומורים, הוא הגיד יום יום אחר תפלת השחר, לפני בני הישיבה, פרשה בתורה ויפרשנה כדרכו בקדש, בהלך נפש בפשט ודרוש, עד להפליא… [הספד של תלמידו,[12] ר’ ישראל בנימין פייוולזאהן, צרור החיים, ווארשא 1914, עמ’ טו (= ר’ זאב רבינר, מרן הרב קוק זצ”ל, עמ’ רכה)].
יש אשר בבוקר לאחר התפלה, אך ישב הנצי”ב אל מקומו בראש השלחן והתחיל מבאר לתלמידי הישיבה את פרשת השבוע [פרקי זכרונות, עמ’ 88].
הדבר הי’ באחד הימים… אחר תפלת שחרית, ואחר שהגיד שעור פרשה חמש מסדר פרשיות השבוע, כדרכו יום יום, [מקור ברוך, ד, עמ’ 1978].
ראש הישיבה הראשי היה הרב הגאון נפתלי צבי הירש בערלין ז”ל… ראש הישיבה הטיף פרשה מחומש בכל יום בבוקר אחרי תפילה… [יהושע ליב ראדוס, זכרונות, עמ’ 65].
בעלות השחר קמתי… התפללתי בלי כונה, שמעתי את הפרשה של חומש מפי’ הנצי”ב אשר הטיף כדרכו, בכל יום ויום לאחר התפלה, והדברים לא נכנסו לאזני… [מ’ אייזנשטדט, הצפירה, תרע”ח, מספר 35].[13]
 In 1881 Rabbi Baruch Epstein wrote an article in Hamelitz about Volozhin, defending it from attacks in the newspapers [See Appendix one]. He describes the daily routine in Volozhin:

סדר היום והלמודים בשעה 8 בבוקר אחר תפילת שחרי, יורה הגרנצי”ב נ”י פרשה חומש מפרשת השבוע וכולל בה פשטי המקראות על פי יסודי טובי המבארים משולבים עם דברי חז”ל (וזה לא כביר הוציא לאור ביאורו הנאור עה”ת בשם ‘העמק דבר’ וראוהו חכמי ישראל בארצנו וחו”ל ויפזרו לו מלא חפנים תהלות ותשבחות וזה לא כביר הגיע לו מכתב תודה והלל מהד”ר א. א. הרכבי), עוד יוסיף דברי אהבה וחן, לטעת בלבות התלמידים מוסר ומדות והנהגות ישרות וצניעות בין אדם למקום ובין אדם לחבירו וחובות היהודי לעמו ולארצו ולמלכו, וירחיב דרושו עד ערך שעה ויותר…” [המליץ, יז, ב’ אדר, תרמ”א (1881), גליון 3, עמ’ 54[.
Another student who learned in Volozhin in the years 1873-1876 describes in his Yiddish Memoirs:

דער נציב פלעגט זאגען אלע טאג נאכ’ן דאוונען א פרשה חומש פון דער וואך. דער חומר איז אפגעדרוקט געווארען [תרגום: הנצי”ב היה רגיל לומר בכל יום לאחר התפילה פרשה בחומש מתוך פרשת השבוע. החומר נדפס] [אלכנסדר זיסקינד הורוויץ, זכרונות פון צוויי דורות, עמ’ 226-227].
One more description of the Netziv’s Chumash Shiur worth quoting, although not based on an eye witness account but rather interviews,[14] is from Fischel Schneersohn’s classic work Chaim Gravitzer:
לאחר התפילה עמד ר’ הירש לייב מעוטף בטלית ותפילין, וכמנהגו בכל יום אמר פרשה של חומש מן הסדרה של השבוע. ואותה שעה נדלק בעיניו הניצוץ הקסום, המתחדש בכל רגע ורגע, ובקלסתר פניו מאירה בת צחוק של איש מלהב בעמלו ואינו מתייגע אלא מתבסם וההולך ביגיעתו, יגיעת הקודש וכלל שהוא נלהב ומשוקע, כן יישא ביתר עוז ויתר שלווה ובטחה בעול עמלו המושך כל כך את הלב. הפרשה של החומש נמשכת כמחצית השעה… [חיים גראביצר, עמ’ 377].
Rabbi Chaim Berlin writes in his Hesped on the Netziv:

אבל תלמיד חכם יחיד בדורו… הרי שמו הולך מסוף העולם עד סופו, הוא השליט בכל דבר הוראה, בתשובותיו לכל אפסי ארץ… לכולם היה רב מובהק וכולם היו תלמידיו… ואף מי שלא היה שמה הלא קבל תורה מספריו… וזה מהעמק דבר… [דרשות הנצי”ב, עמ’ קמה].
Addition to the end of note 22: I wrote in part one: “In Pirkei Zichronot [p.84] we find a claim from Shmuel Zitron that R. Yehoshua Levin gave a chumash shiur using Mendelsohn’s Biur. However, S. Stampfer [ibid, p. 68] already notes that Zitron’s memoirs are not always accurate.”
Add to this: Max Lilienthal records in his memoirs about his visit to Yeshivat Volozhin his discussion with Reb Itzeleh Volozhiner where Reb Itzeleh told him the following:
We have prayers in the morning… After the Service I explain to them some chapters of the Sidrah of the week and the Haphtarah with the commentary of Rashi, adding some free explanations of my own, into which I interweave some remarks from the commentary of Moshe Dessau (Mendelssohn) [David Philipson, Max Lilienthal, American Rabbi Life and Writings, New York 1915, p. 348]. [Thanks to Zevi Fried, for sending me this reference].

 However it’s worth stressing that while many of the parts of Lilienthal’s account appear to be true, not all of them are.[15]
Another connection between Mendelssohn and Reb Itzeleh Volozhiner can be found in a Haskamah that Reb Itzeleh Volozhiner gave to a 1852 edition of the Biur. However it’s pretty clear that Reb Itzeleh Volozhiner was required to do so by the government.[16]
There is, however, a connection between Mendelssohn’s Biur and the Netziv. Dr. Nissim Eliakim in his work Haamek Davar la-Netziv, [Moreshet Yaakov 2003, pp. 45-48] notes a few places in the Netziv’s writings where there are similarities.
Gil Perl comments on this (p. 175): “As of a result of a few striking similarities between the work of the Netziv and that of Moses Mendelsohn, Eliakim (45-48) perceptively states that “with great care I would guess that Mendelssohn’s Biur did not escape the sight of the Netziv.” Again, Netziv’s commentary on Sifre furnishes the evidence which Eliakim lacks.” Gil Perl points to two passages in the work on Sifre where the Biur is quoted.[17]

During the Volozhin Yeshiva’s long existence, both the government and the Maskilim tried several times to close it down. One such instance was in 1858, when, amidst the dealings with the government, a document was written describing the curriculum of the Yeshiva. In the document it states that students were learning chumash with Rashi and the Biur.[18]

Addition to note 26: For more on the censorship and the new version of the Ha’amek Davar see hereherehere and here
Addition for note 28: the cite for what the Netziv wrote about the Newspaper Ha’Shachar to Dr. Eliyahu Harkavi should be:
 שנות דור ודור, א, עמ’ קפד (= תולדות בית ה’ בוואלאז’ין, עמ’ 86-88; אגרות הנצי”ב, עמ’ לב).

On the Reading of the Ha’Shachar in Volozhin see Pirkei Zichronot, p. 73; Shaul Stampfer, Lithuanian Yeshivas of the Nineteenth Century, (p. 157); Jacob J. Schacter, Haskalah… p. 86.

Appendix one:

Appendix two:

Appendix three:


[1]  See Pirkei Zichronot, p. 154. For sources on this see my Likutei Eliezer, p. 85 note 228. Add to that: R’ Y. Avidah, Kos Shel Eliyahu, pp. 26-27; M. Breuer, Ohalei Torah, p. 506; R’ Teichtel, Mishnat Zachir Al Hatorah, introduction, p. 11; R Yair Chaim Bachrach, Mekor Chaim, Introduction.
[2]  See also what Y. Rivkind writes:
מאיר ברלין איז ניט דער היסטאריקער פון וואלאזינער ישיבה… נאך מעהר, די תקופה, די לעצטע, וואס מאיר ברלין באשרייבט, פון דער גרויסער שרפה… איז מעהר אדער וועניגער באשריבען געווארען. האט דאף עפעס אין דער תקופה געלערענט אין וואלאזין די גרויסע ווארט-פיהרער און ליטעראטורמיסטער פון אונזער דור, בערדיטשעווסקי, דרויאנאוו, יהואש, ליעסין, ביאליק און פיל פיפ אנדערע. איבערהויפט האט בערדיטשעווסקי אין זיין לערן-צייט פיל געשריבען איבער דער ישיבה און איהרע פראבלעמען און פון איהר אינערליכען לעבען (אין הכרם, המליץ און האסיף)…
 תרגום חפשי: עוד יותר, התקופה האחרונה, שמאיר ברלין כותב [עליה] – מהשריפה הגדולה בשנת 1886 עד לסגירת הישיבה ע”י הצאר הרוסי ב1892 – פחות או יותר נכתב אודותיה. הלא בתקופה זו למדו בוולוז’ין מנהיגי-הכתיבה ואמני-הספרות של דורנו, ברדיטשבסקי, דרוינוב, יהואש, ליעסין, ביאליק, והרבה אחרים. מעבר לכך, ברדיטשבסקי בתקופת כתיבתו כתב הרבה אודות הישיבה ובעיותיה וחייה הפנימיים. [די צוקוונפט, ז (1933), עמ’ 670-671, וראה שם, עמ’ 673].
[3]  Shaul Stampfer, Lithuanian Yeshivas of the Nineteenth Century, p. 159 also makes a similar point. See also the introduction to Pirkei Zichronot, pp. 31-40. For more about Bialik in Volozhin, see Pirkei Zichronot, pp. 78, 157, 180, 182, 195. See also Menachem Zlotkin, ‘HaChevrah HaChashayit Netzach Yisrael’, Molad 5:27 (1950) pp. 181- 185; Rabbi Nosson Kamenetsky, Making of a Godol, vol. 1, pp. 445-446, vol. 2, p. 893, pp. 896-902.
[4]  See the letter of R’ Gifter, Mili Di-Igrot, (2015), pp. 51-52.
[5]  See also the piece I quote in note 9.
[6] See Y. Shavit and Y. Reinharz, The Scientific G-d (heb.), 2011; Roni Beer Marx, Between Seclusion and Adaption; The Newspaper Halevanon and East European Orthodox Society’s Facing Up to Modern Challenges,(Heb.)PhD. Dissertation, Hebrew University, 2011, pp. 116-205.
[7]  Gil Perl, The Pillar of Volozhin, pp 176-178, points to some of these pieces.
[8]  See Rabbi S. Gershuni, Hama’yan, 52:4 [202] (2012), p. 54 note, 21.
[9]  On this see Igrot HaNetziv Me-Volozhin, pp. 162-163 where he wrote  a letter to R’ Yosef Charny, [author of Sefer Ha-Masot]:
לשמחת לבבי שמעה אזני כי רגלי מע”כ שיחי’ מועדות ללכת שנית לקהלות דאגעסטאן… שע”י מעל’ שיחי’ נזכה לדעת משלום אחינו הנדחים שמה ולחקור ולהתחקות על מעשיהם והליכות עולמם… וכאשר ראיתי בעלי המגיד ושאר מכה”ע לב”י, שמו לב אני סגולה לדעת כמה פרטים אשר צמאה גם נפשי לדעתם. ואני הנני להוסיף שאלה איך היה סדר מנהגם בפתחי נדות? וכן.. סכין שחיטה…”.
[10]  This is repeated in the various Hespedim that Reb Chaim gave on his father; see Drashos HaNetziv, p. 147, 148. The reason why Reb Chaim gave several Hespedim on his father can be found in Drashos HaNetziv, p. 153. 
[11]  About this work see Appendix three.
[12] On him, see: Moshe Tzinovitz, Etz Chaim, p. 409.
[13]  In Shimon Meller’s recent book Rabon Shel Kol Bnei Hagoleh, on R’ Chaim Soloveitchik, he quotes various passages from memoirs of Rabbi Menachem Tzvi Eisenstadt, (for example on pp. 286, 288,289, 306-308). This passage appears on p. 308. On page 289 Meller cites the source for this memoir, an article in the Newspaper Dos Vort. On page 288 and 306 he has pictures of Rabbi Menachem Tzvi Eisenstadt. However, I was unable to locate such a piece, nor could I find a Rabbi Menachem Tzvi Eisenstadt who learned in Volozhin. There was a Rabbi Menachem Tzvi Eisenstadt, who was close to R’ Chaim but he was born in 1901, from whom a nice collection of his material was printed in 2003 called Minchat Tzvi. Obviously, he could not be writing memoirs about the Netziv. There was a R’ Michal Eisenstadt, who was a close talmid of the Netziv and his comments on the Haemek Shealah were included inside. The Netziv even thanks him at the end of the introduction to his Haemek Shealah. But as far as I could locate, he never printed memoirs about Volozhin. His Torah novellea were collected and printed as Yad Malachi. [The Netziv also quotes him in his Hamek Davar, Vayirah [25:47], (Harchev Davar). There was a Moshe Elozer Eisenstadt who learned in Volzhin and wrote memoirs about Volozhin. These memoirs were translated from Russian and printed in Pirkei Zichronot (pp. 105-119). The passages which Meller printed did not appear in this chapter. After much searching eventually I found some other articles of Moshe Elozer Eisenstadt; one of them was this article in Ha-Zefirah (some were quoted by Stampfer but not this one). See Appendix two.

[14]  About this see:
בשמו של אברהם צארט קשור ביקורו של פר’ פישל שניאורסון, שבא לוולוז’ין כדי לאסוף חומר לשם כתיבת הכרך השני של ספרו חיים גראוויצער המוקדש כולו לוולוז’ין [ספר וולוז’ין, עמ’ 497].
Thanks to Shlomo Hoffman for this source. I will return to this book in one of the next parts of this series.
[15]  On this visit see: R’ Dovid Soloveichik, Shiurei Rabbenu Meshulam Dovid HaLevi, (2014), pp. 566-569; R’ Moshe Tzvi Neryeh, Pirkei Volozhin, pp. 28-30;  Jacob J. Schacter, “Haskalah, Secular Studies and the Close of the Yeshiva in Volozhin in 1892“, Torah u-Madda Journal 2 (1990), p. 124-125; Shaul Stampfer, Lithuanian Yeshivas of the Nineteenth Century, pp. 58-59; Moshe Tzinovitz, Etz Chaim, pp. 185-191; Rabbi Nosson Kamenetsky, Making of a Godol, 1, pp. 198-255.
Rabbi Moshe Shmuel Shapiro, R. Moshe Shmuel Vidoro, pp. 46-48 translated part of these memoirs of Lilienthal into Hebrew but not this passage. This was already noted by Jacob J. Schacter, ibid, p. 124 note 85. See Shevil Ha’zahav, pp. 8-9 about Rabbi Mordechai Eliasberg’s meeting with Lilienthal. For a general account of the impact of Lilienthal’s visit see Pauline Wengeroff, Memoirs of a Grandmother, 2010, pp. 174-186.
For more on Reb Itzeleh’s shiurim, see: Rabbi Moshe Shmuel Shapiro, R. Moshe Shmuel Ve-doro, p. 41
On Reb Itzeleh Volozhiner, see: R’ Moshe Tzvi Neryeh, Pirkei Volozhint, pp.26-36.
[16] See Berdyczewski’s article about Volozhin in Volume three of HaAssif (1886), p. 240 where he mentions the haskamah. Interestingly enough, R’ Chaim Berlin in his article in Beis Hamedrash (see part two), containing his corrections to Berdyczewski’s article, does not comment about this.
See also see Pirkei Zichronot, p. 84; P. Sandler, Habiur Letorah, p. 180; see also Jacob J. Schacter, “Haskalah, Secular Studies and the Close of the Yeshiva in Volozhin in 1892“, Torah u-Madda Journal 2 (1990), pp. 123-124; R’ Eliach, HaGoan, 3, p. 1307.
[17]  See also Gil Perl, The Pillar of Volozhin, p. 37, 89.
[18] See S. Stampfer, Lithuanian Yeshivas of the Nineteenth Century, p.195Toldot Beis Hashem B’Volozhin (p. 236) briefly mentions this “closing” but does not mention the curriculum.



“שוק באשה ערוה”, לאיזה אבר התכוונו חז”ל?

                                          “שוק באשה ערוה”, לאיזה אבר התכוונו חז”ל?
                                                        מאת זאב וגנר
מאמר
זה לקוח מהספר “אוצר רש”י” (בערך “שוק”), העומד לצאת בע”ה
בקרוב והוא מילון אנציקלופדי המכיל כעשרת אלפים ערכים, הכוללים את הגדרותיו
הלשוניות של רש”י במקרא ובתלמוד.
 הנושא הנידון הוא בירור מיקום אבר השוק באדם
(שוק היא לשון נקבה, אך לא נקפיד בכך בהרצאת הדברים), כיצד נוצר הספק בדבר מיקומו
וכן כיצד “מטפלים” במשנה ברורה “סורר” הפוסק שזה החלק העליון
של הרגל בניגוד לדעת רוב שאר הפוסקים.
במילון
אבן שושן מגדיר שוק “חלק הרגל הנמצא בין הברך ובין כף הרגל” וזו המשמעות
המקובלת בשפה העברית המדוברת. לעומת זאת, בעולם התורני ישנה מחלוקת עתיקה בענין זה
והיא, האם שוק הוא החלק התחתון של הרגל (וזו הדעה העיקרית)? או האם זה חלק הרגל
העליון (הנקרא ירך בשפה המדוברת) הנמשך מהברך ועד המותן? עצם העובדה שיש בכלל
מחלוקת הלכתית בענין אומר דרשני וכמדומה אין עוד שום אבר אחר באדם שיש לגביו ספק
בדבר מיקומו (נסו לבקש מאנשים להצביע על שוקם ותווכחו).
ערב
אחד שמעתי הרצאה מאחת הרבניות המרצות בעניני צניעות (שהוא הנושא החביב עליהן),
ובין יתר הדברים אמרה את המשפט הבא: “ישנו אבר אחד באדם והוא השוק, שהוא  החלק התחתון של הרגל, מן הברך ועד הקרסול
(שהוא העצם הבולט ברגל במקום חבור פסת הרגל אל השוק) שאין שום מחלוקת בדבר זהותו
והנחשב ערוה לכל השיטות והדעות ולכן צריך לכסותו כדי שלא יראה אפילו במקצת.
קביעה
זו שהשוק היא ערוה אכן נכונה, כיון שיש גמרא מפורשת האומרת זאת (בברכות כד
ע”א וכפי שנרחיב להלן), אך בדבר המיקום, נראה שההפך הוא הנכון וזהו האבר
היחיד שיש לגביו מחלוקת. רוב המפרשים והפוסקים אכן סוברים ששוק הוא החלק התחתון של
הרגל, וכך ג”כ ניתן להבין מדברי המחבר בשו”ע יו”ד קצה ס”י:
נחתך הולד במעיה (של היולדת) ויצא אבר אבר, בין שיצא על סדר האברים, כגון שיצא
הרגל, ואחריה השוק ואחריה הירך… מכאן רואים בבירור שלדעת הבית יוסף סדר האיברים
הוא שוק ומעליו ירך.
בפירוש
הבועז (מבעל התפארת ישראל) לאהלות פ”א מ”ח אות י”ד מסביר שיש חילוק
בדבר משמעות השוק בין לשון המקרא ללשון התלמוד וכותב כך: וכבר ידוע דלשון תורה
לחוד ולשון חכמים לחוד, דהרי בלשון תורה שוק הניתן משלמים לכהן הן ב’ עצמות ארוכות
של יד הבהמה (כחולין קלב ע”ב), וכן בכל דוכתא שנזכר שם שוק בקרא בין ביד או
ברגל משמעותו ב’ העצמות העליונות שבכל אחד. אבל הכא הרי מוכח שהשוק הוא רק העצם
הארוך התחתון של רגל למטה מהברך, עכ”ד.
כדי
להבין במה מדובר ראוי לפרט את איברי הרגל באדם ובבהמה כפי שרגיל בפי הבריות. הרגל
מתחברת לגוף האדם בכף הירך, החלק הארוך מתחתיו והנמשך עד הברך נקרא ירך. הברך (או
פיקת הברך) מחברת בין הירך והשוק הנמשך מתחתיה 
עד הקרסול ומשם מתחיל כף הרגל ולבסוף האצבעות. (ישנם עוד איברים אך הם אינם
מעניננו). בבהמה לעומת זאת מבנה הרגל שונה. המקום בו מתחברת רגל הבהמה לגוף נקרא
בוקא דאטמא שממנו יורדת הקולית (או הירך, שהוא האבר הארוך הראשון של הרגל הקרוב
לגוף הבהמה) עד עצם הערקוב (שהוא מקביל לברך באדם), מהערקוב יורד השוק עד הערקום
(וזה נחשב האבר השני או האמצעי), האבר המקביל לקרסול בבהמה הוא עצם האיסתווירא
ומשם יורד עצם הרגל (המקביל לכף הרגל באדם והוא האבר השלישי) הנמשך עד הטלפים (שהם
מקבילים לאצבעות כף הרגל).
כאשר
נשווה בין מבנה רגל האדם לרגל הבהמה, ניתן מיד להבחין שלאדם יש שני איברים ארוכים
עומדים המחוברים ע”י הברך, ואילו לבהמה יש שני איברים ארוכים עומדים ואחד
הקצר יותר. מכאן נובע מקור הבעיה כאשר מנסים להשוות ביניהם, כיוון שהחלק השלישי
בבהמה (הסמוך לקרקע) מקביל לכף הרגל באדם אלא שהוא מאונך בניגוד לכף הרגל באדם
שהוא מאוזן ונראה כמעט בוודאות שזה שרש הבעיה מדוע מחליפים בין שוק לירך ולפי הסבר
זה אין ספק שהשוק הוא החלק התחתון של רגל האדם.
לפני
שאנו ניגשים לחלק היותר עסיסי של המאמר, נביא מספר מקורות הדנים במיקום השוק ולמי
שאין בכך ענין יכול לדלג על הדברים. המקור לכך ששוק באשה ערוה הוא בברכות כד
ע”א ולמדים זאת בגמרא מהפסוק בישע’ מז ב-ג “חשפי שבל גלי שוק עברי נהרות
תגל ערותך גם תראה חרפתך”. תלמיד רש”י, המהר”י קרא מפרש על אתר:
שוק – הוא הירך העליון וכך ג”כ מבאר בשו”ת בני בנים (יהודה הרצל הנקין)
ח”ד סימן ט’. מפירושי רש”י השונים, וביחוד לפי המובא בערך איסתוירא
(מנחות לג ע”א ) שהוא מקום חיבור השוק וכף הרגל, נראה לכאורה שהוא סובר ששוק
הוא החלק התחתון של רגל האדם וכן נראה מסנה’ צו ע”ב ד”ה גלי – תגלי
(אצ”ל תגלו) קלעי ראשיכם ושוקיכם ותלכו בגלות. נראה שמדובר בגילוי החלק
התחתון שכן לא מסתבר שיגלו את החלק מעל הברך שלכל הדעות הוא מקום ערוה.
בברכות
סא ע”א מובא: כל העובר אחורי אשה בנהר אין לו חלק לעולם הבא, וברש”י
ד”ה אחורי אשה בנהר – אחורי אשת איש, (כיון ש)מגבהת בגדיה מפני המים… וכן
בב”ב נז ע”ב ד”ה לפי שאין דרכן… להתבזות – שצריכות לעמוד שם
יחיפות לגלות שוק לעמוד בנהר. מהפסוקים האלה, המדברים בהרמת השמלה בשביל שלא תרטב,
קשה להחליט האם מדובר בגילוי החלק התחתון או גם העליון.
בערובין
ד ע”א, רש”י ד”ה ואינו מטמא באהל – שום עצם בלא בשר עד שיהא שם
שדרה שלימה או גולגולת או רוב בנינו, שתי שוקיים וירך אחת. מכאן נראה שמדובר בחלק
העליון, כיון שיותר מסתבר שהחלק החסר הוא היותר תחתון שברגל. באופן דומה מובא
בבכורות מה ע”א ד”ה הואיל, ושם מפרש דשני שוקיים וירך אחד הוי רוב גובה
הגוף, אך מתוס’ יבמות קג ע”א ד”ה “מאן דמסגי” וברש”י
ד”ה “על ליחתא” נראה שמדובר בחלק התחתון.
בספר
שערים המצויינים בהלכה (מגילה יד ע”ב ד”ה שגילתה שוקה), מציין לתשובות
הרדב”ז (סוף חלק ז’, תקנות עגונות סימן כ”ט) הדן בקושיית התוס’ (שם
ד”ה שגלתה) היאך גילתה אביגיל את שוקה (כמובא בש”א כה כ) והלך דוד לאורה
ג’ פרסאות? ומפרש שהיא לא גילתה שוקה (מעצמה), אלא בזמן שהיתה יורדת בסתר ההר נשב
הרוח ונתגלה שוקה והיא לא ידעה מזה… ואפשר שצ”ל “שנתגלה” מעצמו.
עכ”ל. לסיכום, עדיין לא ברור מעל לכל ספק מכל הנ”ל מהו השוק, כיון שיש
צדדים לכאן ולכאן וכפי שמאריך החזון איש באו”ח סט”ז אות ח בענין השוק
ומביא ראיות לכל צד ומסיים “דקשה להכריע בדבר” (אך בסידורים של הוצאת
ארטסקרול באנגלית כן הכריעו בדבר ותרגמו את הפסוק בתהלים קמז י: “לא בשוקי
האיש ירצה” במשמעות ירך (thigh)
שבאנגלית משמעו החלק העליון של הרגל).
כאמור,
השוק נחשב ערווה כפי שקובעת הגמרא ולכן וצריך לכסותו כדי שלא יראה, כדין כל אבר
באשה הנחשב ערווה. לאותם פוסקים 
(המ”ב ועוד) הסוברים שזהו החלק העליון מספיק שהשמלה תגיע עד קמצת מתחת
לברך (ועוד קצת כדי שלא יתגלה בשעת הישיבה) והשאר אינו צריך כיסוי כלל. ולאותם
פוסקים הסוברים שזה החלק התחתון (והיא דעת רוב הפוסקים), צריך ללבוש שמלה המגיעה
עד הקרסול כדי שלא יראה טפח מהשוק (ולהיותר מחמירים כגון בגילוי השער אפילו טפח
אסור יהיה לגלות) ועל אחת כמה וכמה שלא ניתן יהיה לראות את צורת השוק כפי שאסור
הדבר בחלק הגוף העליון של האשה, כדי שלא יראה חיטוב האיברים.
כעת
ניתן לגשת לעיקר הנושא והוא הבעיה ההלכתית שנוצרה עקב השינוי שחל בסגנון לבוש
הנשים בדורות האחרונים. עד שנות העשרים של המאה הקודמת בעולם המערבי לבשו הנשים
שמלות ארוכות עד הקרסול ומאז החלו הנשים אט אט לקצר את אורך השמלות. באותה עת החלה
רוח הציונות לנשב ועמה רעיון שיבת א”י, רעיון שנתפס אליו נוער רב. נוער זה
בניגוד לאופנה המשתנה לבש שמלות ארוכות. כידוע בעניני צניעות כולל מלבושי נשים
המגמה היא להחמיר יותר ויותר, ואילו כאן למרבה הפלא החלו הנשים היהודיות לקצר את
שמלותיהם ולא נשמע קול מחאה. ניתן להניח (וזו השערה בלבד ויתכן שישנן עוד סיבות
שאיני מודע להם) שגורמים כלשהם עודדו תופעה זו כדי להרחיק מסימן ההיכר של הנוער
הציוני. אפילו היום בבתי ספר היותר חרדיים ישנן תקנות  שאוסרות על התלמידות ללבוש חצאית או שמלה ארוכה ומזהירים את ההורים
שישגיחו על לבוש בתם, כיון שכל בת שתתפס בלבוש כזה, אחת דתה להיזרק מבית הספר.
כאמור
הנשים בלי יוצא מן הכלל לבשו שמלות ארוכות שהסתירו את כל הרגל, וכעת נוצר מצב
הפוך, שהנשים החלו  לקצר את שמלותיהם
(בגלל סיבה זו או אחרת תהיה אשר תהיה), וכעת ניתן לראות חלק מהשוק שחז”ל
קוראים לו ערוה והעלול לגרום להרהורים ולבעיות אחרות בעניני צניעות שאין כאן המקום
לפרטן ולמרבה הפלא לא נשמע קול מחאה. בשאלה זו דן בשו”ת אשר חנן (אפללו, חלק
ו-ז אה”ע סימן פ”ח, וכן בחלק ח סימן קס”ב): האם אפשר לאשה ללכת
מחוץ לביתה בשמלה ארוכה עד הקרסול, כיון שיש הסוברים שזה לבוש בלתי צנוע ורחובי?
ועונה שאין שום מקור לכך, וכמו שאסור ללבוש חולצה הדוקה, אין היתר ללבוש גרב הדוק
כדי לכסות את חלק הרגל התחתון. (וכך מובא ג”כ בספר אחותי כלה מאת ר’ אברהם
ארבל, תשס”ז עמ’ קל”ט, בקונטרס באתי לגני סימן י”א, וראה עוד
לקמן).
רוב
הפוסקים כאמור הסיקו הלכה למעשה ששוק הוא החלק התחתון, אך למרבה הפלא,
“הפוסק” שספרו נתקבל כספר היסוד של ההלכה בימינו, החפץ חיים בספרו משנה
ברורה (סימן ע”ה סעיף א סק”ב) הולך בעקבות הפרי מגדים (משבצות זהב סימן
ע”ה סק”א) הקובע ששוק זה מן הברך ולמעלה, (ולפעמים נקרא ירך) וכותב כך:
“אבל פניה וידיה כפי המנהג שדרך להיות מגולה באותו מקום, בפרסות רגל עד השוק
(והוא עד המקום שנקרא קני”א בלשון אשכנז)”. כלומר מדברי המ”ב ברור
מעל לכל ספק שסובר שהשוק הוא החלק העליון (מעל ה”קניא” שהוא ברך בלשון
לעז). בשו”ת מגידות מהפמ”ג (שנדפס מכ”י בברוקלין תשע”ג
ח”א סימן כ”ד וכן כ”ו), דן בענין ומסיים “וצריך עיון בכל
זה”.
דברי
המ”ב הנ”ל גורמים מבוכה לאלה הנוטים להחמיר בעניני צניעות לבוש הנשים,
ולכן מנסים להקהות ולטשטש את דבריו ונביא מספר דוגמאות. בספר הליכות בת ישראל
(יצחק יעקב פוקס, ירושלים תשד”מ) פ”ד ס”ט סוף הערה כ”ח כותב:
הרש”ז אויערבאך שליט”א “כתב לי” שמן הדין אפשר להקל לאשה
הנמצאת בביתה במשך היום ואינה יוצאת לרחוב, שאינה חייבת לגרוב גרביים (גם בנוכחות
אחרים), וכן שאשה בשעת נידתה אינה צריכה לגרוב גרביים בפני בעלה… עיי”ש.
לעומת זאת במהדורה האנגלית שיצאה שנה אח”כ עמ’ 37, משמיט את רוב הדברים וכותב
בקיצור: הגאון רש”ז אויערבאך “כותב” (ולא “כתב לי”) שלפי
הדין אשה אינה צריכה ללבוש גרביים בנוכחות בעלה… (דבר פשוט ומובן ומובן מאליו
ולא קשור כלל לנושא המדובר). היוצא מדבריו שהדברים שכתב במהדורה העברית כנראה גררו
תגובות שרצוי להשמיט דברים אלו, כיון שמעתה כל בנות ישראל יפסיקו לגרוב גרביונים.
בספר
הלבוש כהלכתו (החסר כל פרט מזהה), פט”ו סימן א’ מסרס ומשמיט את דברי
המ”ב על מיקום השוק ומשלבם יחד עם דברי החיי אדם (הקובע ששוק הוא החלק
התחתון), והרי לשונו בדיוק: כתב המשנה ברורה, כל גופה של אשה, מה שדרכה להיות
מכוסה, נקרא ערוה. אבל פניה וידיה, במקום שאין דרכה להיות מכוסה, לא נקרא ערוה,
כיון שרגילים בזה אין כאן הרהור, וכן פרסות רגליה במקום שהדרך לילך יחף, מותר. אבל
זרועותיה ושוקה, אפילו רגילין בכך כדרך הפרוצות, אסור (משנה ברורה עה, ב חיי אדם
ד, ב). במהדורה השביעית (טבת תשע”ה עמ’ 131 הערה ז)  נוספה הארה ארוכה הדנה בנושא ובין השאר כותב
המחבר עלום השם: ולגודל וחומר הקושיות (על המ”ב) נראה לומר שלפי המצב בדורו,
שחלה הידרדרות בקיום התורה בכלל ובעניני הצניעות בפרט (כמבואר בספרו גדר עולם), לא
רצה לכתוב בבירור אלא מה שאין בו שום צד היתר, והעתיק את שתי הדיעות במשפט אחד
וסמך על המעיין שידקדק היטב בדבריו (ומסיים: הנלע”ד כתבתי). לפי דבריו,
המ”ב הסתיר את כוונתו וסמך על בינתו של הלומד להבין את עומק דבריו, שהוא בעצם
סובר שהשוק היא האבר התחתון. כלומר עשה את ספר המ”ב כספר קבלה שרק  יחידי סגולה יודעי סוד יכולים להבינו ולרדת
לעומק דעתו (ומכאן תשובה לאלו השואלים האם החפץ חיים עסק בקבלה).
בספר
בגדי תפארתך מר’ י”א רוזנבוים (ביתר תשע”ד עמ’ 23) מובאת דרך מקורית
נוספת והיא שינוי סדר המילים במ”ב: פרסות הרגל עד השוק [ו(השוק) הוא עד מקום
שנקרא קניא (ברך) בל”א] במקום שדרכן לילך יחף (ואז האזור שמפרסות הרגל עד
השוק מגולה) מותר לקרות כנגדו (היינו כנגד האזור הנ”ל, אבל למעלה מכפות
הרגלים חשיב שוק ואסור לגלותו או לקרות כנגדו, ואינו תלוי במנהג המקומות). כלומר
הוא משכתב מחדש את דברי המ”ב (ולפי השיכתוב מסתבר שהמ”ב סובר שהשוק היא
החלק התחתון) ואח”כ מסביר במפורש “שזה מה שבאמת הח”ח רצה
לכתוב” (אך קרה מה שקרה ובאה יד המלאך ודחפה את ידו של הח”ח ובמקום
לכתוב את הנ”ל כתב מה שכתב ואין להתייחס לדבריו). בדרך זו ניתן לשכתב את כל
התורה כולה כי הלא אנו יודעים יותר מכותבי הדברים מה באמת היתה כוונתם.
בדרך
גאונית דומה נוקט בקונטרס “שוקיו עמודי שש” (חש”מ, ירושלים
תשע”ב) המסביר שהמ”ב בא להגן על כבודו של הפמ”ג, ולכן משנה את
דבריו וכותב בצורה נסתרת (שרק בעלי סוד יכולים להבין) את כוונתו והיא שבאמת השוק
הוא החלק התחתון. בקונטרס התנהגות בין אנשים לנשים עפ”י הלכה (ר’ יוסף יצחק
ראזענפעלד, מאנסי תשס”א) עמ’ ע”ב כותב: “יש אומרים שדברי המ”ב
האלו, לא הוא כתבם”. גם זו שיטה מקורית ביותר. מהיום והלאה כל מה שלא נראה
למאן דהוא בספר כלשהוא יכתוב בצידי הספר “לא הוא כתבם” ושלום על ישראל
(ולקמן מובא סיפור משעשע בנושא לא הוא כתבם).
בספר
הצניעות בהלכה מר’ שמואל הלוי שישא מסביר שיש חוסר הבנה במבנה רגל האדם ביחס לרגל
הבהמה ואם נשוה אותם נגלה שבשניהם השוק הוא החלק התחתון ומסביר שהפ”מ
“טעה” (פשוטו כמשמעו) וחזר בו (בשו”ת מגידות) והמ”ב נגרר
אחריו ולא ידע שהפ”מ חזר בו. יוצא מדבריו שגם הפמ”ג וגם המ”ב טעו
ואין להם הבנה במבנה רגל הבהמה ורגל האדם (וכנראה אינו דורש את הפסוק בקהלת ג יט
“ומותר האדם מן הבהמה, אין”). כלומר, לדבריו אין יותר בעיה לחלוק על
הראשונים, אלא כל דבר שלא נראה למאן דהוא יכתוב שטעה המחבר כיון שלא ידע ונפטרה
הבעיה.
בירחון
ישורון (גליון ל”א עמ’ תתל”ד, מאמר “לדרכי פסיקת המ”ב
והחזו”א”) מר’ יהושע ענבל, כותב שבנושא יסודי אחד מיקל המ”ב, והרבה
פוסקים תמהו על קולתו, ומ”מ המנהג הוא כמו פשרה. לדעת המ”ב שוק הוא החלק
העליון של הרגל, ואין לחלק התחתון דין ערוה. אמנם הוא תמוה… ולכן אנן פוסקים
שצריך לכסות, אבל מקילים שהכיסוי (של חלק “התחתון” של השוק) יהיה
ע”י גרב בצורת הרגל ובצבע הרגל… כלומר מדבריו יוצא הסבר מקורי ביותר, ששני
חלקי הרגל נקראים שוק, אלא יש שוק עליון ושוק תחתון ואנו מקילים בשוק התחתון לגרוב
גרביונים, כלומר הוא ביטל במחי יד את אבר הירך וקורא לו שוק עליון (ולדבריו נראה
שמספיק שאורך השמלה תהיה עד הברך ותו לא).
מומלץ
לכל אחד לעיין בספרים אלא ולא להסתמך על המובא כאן, לכולם יש מכנה אחד משותף והוא,
שהם קובעים בצורה החלטית שהמ”ב והפ”מ טעו בצורה זו או אחרת בדבר מיקום
השוק ולכן אין לקבל את דבריהם להלכה. כותב כך במפורש בספר אחותי כלה (ר’ אברהם
ארבל, תשס”ז עמ’ קל”ח סימן יא) שאין שום ספק שהמ”ב טעה (ובלשונו:
נדחה) וצריך לקיים מצוות לא תגורו מפני איש… ואין נושאים פנים בהלכה וכו’,
ובהמשך דבריו מביא את דברי ר’ שלמה אבינר בספר גן נעול (בענין כח ההכרעה של המ”ב),
המצטט את ר”ח גורדזינסקי בשו”ת אחיעזר, פרקי חיים תר”ע “לאחר
שיביע הח”ח את דעתו, מצווים אנו לא לחלוק על דבריו כנאמר לא תחלוק על
רב”. וכן דברי ר’ אלחנן וסרמן בתולדות הח”ח עמ’ תע”ח “דברי
הח”ח הם כדברי הראשונים שאין לאל ידי האחרונים ואפילו הגדולים לחלוק
עליהם”, ומסיים (א”א הנ”ל, שלמרות דבריהם, הוא) לא מאמין שיצאו
דברים אלו מפי הגדולים הנ”ל, אלא תלמיד טועה כתבם… (ועיין באגרות משה מר’
משה פיינשטיין, יו”ד ח”ג סימן קט”ו, בדבר ספר פירושי התורה לר’
יהודה החסיד וספר “הציוני” על התורה, שמביאים דברים זרים ויש לאסרם…
וע”ז עונה בשו”ת משנה הלכות מר’ מנשה קליין, חי”ב סימן רי”ד
שאינו מאמין שדברים אלו יצאו מפי הגרמ”פ, אלא נראה לפי עניות דעתו שאיזה
תלמיד טועה כתב את התשובה והכניסה בין כתביו לאחר פטירתו… ולא ר”מ
פיינשטיין כתבה).
אפילו
נניח שיש במ”ב איזו שהיא שגגה או ט”ס, המ”ב חוזר על דבריו בסימן
קכ”ח ס”ק ט”ז “בתי שוקים (מה שאנו קוראים מגפיים) – הוא
מנעלים ארֻכים המגיעים עד ארכובות הרגל, היינו סמוך לשוק…” לא מסתבר
שהמ”ב יחזור על אותה שגגה בדבר מיקום השוק פעמיים. במהדורת המ”ב עם
הערות ביצחק יקרא מר’ אביגדור הלוי נבנצל (ירושלים תשס”ד), בהשלמות בסוף
ח”א כותב “שמעתי מאדמו”ר זללה”ה (הכוונה לר’ שלמה זלמן
אויערבאך שהיה פוסק הדור ורבו המובהק) להקל כמשנ”ב, אבל לא רצה להורות לקולא
למי ששאל אותו” (ועיין באגרות משה אה”ע ח”ד סימן ק’ אות ד).
דברים
אלו (של א”א הנ”ל) חמורים ביותר ובעלי השלכות מרחיקות לכת. ראשית הוא
כותב בהחלטיות שהמ”ב טועה ואין לערער בדבר. שנית, קובע שאיזה תלמיד טועה שם
דברי שקר בפי האחיעזר ור’ אלחנן וסרמן. א”כ לדבריו, איבדנו את אמונת החכמים
ואת האמון בכל מה שמובא בספר כלשהוא, ויכול כל אחד לבנות במה לעצמו ולומר לא נראים
הדברים, תלמיד טועה כתבם וכו’ וכו’, ועוד לפי מסקנת דבריו יוצא שמבטל במחי יד את
כל נאמנות מסירת התורה שבכתב ובע”פ ועל זה נאמר “חכמים הזהרו
בדבריכם”.
ידוע
במדע האקולוגיה שכאשר משנים דבר ידוע וקבוע עלולים להתקל בתוצאות בלתי רצויות
וצפויות מראש. לדוגמא נהר הנילוס זרם במשך אלפי שנים וגרם לאדמת מצרים סביבותיו
להיות פוריה ביותר בשל המשקעים שנשא עמו (כמובא בסוף ספר בראשית ותחילת ספר שמות).
כאשר בנו את סכר אסואן, במטרה שתהיה אספקת מים סדירה, הוא חסם את המשקעים ופריון
האדמה ירד בצורה חדה ועמו כמות היבול שהניבה ומעתה היו צריכים לספק זבלים לחקלאים
דבר שהעלה את עלות הגידולים. באופן דומה, בשל הרצון להתרחק מהמלבוש הציוני
והרחובי, שינו את לבוש הנשים שהיה נהוג במשך אלפי שנים, ועקב כך נוצר מצב שאבר
שהיה תמיד מכוסה (ללא קשר שמו), כעת תמיד מגולה לשליש לחצי או לרביע. וכדי לחפות
על הדבר, במקום לחזור למנהג המקורי של לבישת שמלות ארוכות דורשים מהנשים שילבשו
גרביונים יותר ויותר עבים, דבר המאוד לא נוח ביחוד בימי הקיץ הלוהטים, ומסבירים
להם זאת שזו מסירות הנפש שלהם (משהוא בדומה למסירות הנפש של הצפרדעים במצרים שקפצו
לתנורים).
לסיכום
נביא מקצת דברי שבח שנאמרו על המ”ב. בספר שיעורי משמר הלוי על מסכת ערכין,
(משה מרדכי שולזינגר, ב”ב, תשע”ב עמ’ רכ”ב) כותב: יש לדעת, אין כזה
דבר טעות במ”ב… וסיפר שפעם נפגשה בת מבית יעקב עם בחור ישיבה, והבחור אמר
לה שלפעמים מוצאים טעויות במ”ב. הלך אבי הבת אל הרב שך זצ”ל וסיפר לו
דברים כהווייתן, נזדעזע מרן זצ”ל ואמר לו נחרצות, מיד תלך ותנתק את השידוך…
כי לדבר כך זה גובל באפיקורסות.
במ”ב
המבואר ברכת אשר מר’ אפרים פאדאווער (ברוקלין, תש”ע) עמ’ 62, כללי הפסק בנוגע
להמ”ב והבה”ל כותב ששמע בע”פ מהגאון ר’ חיים קנייבסקי… שאלתי את
הגר”ח אם אמת הוא מה שאומרים שכשנדמה שיש סתירה בין דברי המ”ב במקום אחד
לדבריו במקום אחר, שאפשר לתרץ ולומר שאחד מהם נכתב ע”י הח”ח בעצמו והאחר
ע”י בנו או חתנו ושהם כתבו דינם ע”פ מקורות אחרים? והשיב לי רבינו
שליט”א (ר”ח קנייבסקי) שאינו אמת כלל, ובשום אופן א”א לתרץ כן…
והוסיף לי… שאף שאמת הוא שיש סימנים במ”ב שעיקרם נכתבו ע”י בנו או
חתנו זצ”ל, מ”מ הח”ח עבר עליהם בעצמו והסכים עליהם. ונמצא שבסופו
של דבר כל המ”ב יצא מתחת ידו של מרן הח”ח זצ”ל בעצמו…
בחוברת
יחלק שלל, גליון ה’ עמ’ כ”ו סימן ד’, מהליכותיו בתפילה של ר’ הלל זקס מובא
שנזף במי שאמר שהחפץ חיים היה בעצמו לא נוהג בכמה דברים להלכה כפי שכתב
במ”ב… והקפיד על כך מאוד ואמר שזהו דבר שאסור לאומרו… ונסיים בדברי החזון
אי”ש הידועים בקובץ אגרות ח”ב אגרת מ”א: סוף דבר ההוראה המקובלת
מפי רבותינו אשר מפיהם אנו חיים, כמו הב”י ומ”א והמ”ב… היא הוראה
מקוימת כמו מפי סנהדרין בלשכת הגזית…



Rabboni Jesus – Confirmation from the Talmud?

Rabboni Jesus – Confirmation from the Talmud?
David M. Goldenberg*
The exchange one year ago between Pope Francis and Prime Minister Netanyahu over the language spoken by Jesus overshadowed any other news of the pope’s visit to Israel. The pope was right, of course, Jesus spoke Aramaic, not Hebrew, although Netanyahu could have offered a better rejoinder than his weak “But he knew Hebrew.” He could have said: “But he prayed in Hebrew.”
Among the proofs that Aramaic was the spoken language of Jesus’ time and place is the evidence of the New Testament, which no doubt informed the pope’s comment. Of the Aramaic words and phrases recorded in this text, perhaps the most cited is the word rabbouni (ραββουνι) or rabboni (ραββωνι), which is how Jesus is referred to by the blind man in Mark 10:51 and by Mary Magdalene in John 20:16. The text in John glosses the word by adding: “which means teacher.”
Years ago the spelling of this word caused confusion, since Jewish Aramaic and Hebrew texts traditionally vocalize the first letter with a ḥiriq (as in ribbono shel  ‘olam). But then the pataḥ vocalization was discovered in Palestinian Targum fragments from the geniza and in Targum Neofiti, as also in Samaritan Aramaic texts.  Some time later it was also found in Hebrew manuscripts.  Where the Mishna in Ta’anit 3.8 records Ḥoni ha-Ma’agal’s reference to God as ribbono shel olam, both MS Kaufmann and MS Parma vocalize the first word with pataḥ (Kaufmann as rabbuno; Parma as rabbono). Then geniza liturgical fragments of birkhot ha-shaḥar (Palestinian rite) turned up with the phrase רבון כל העולמים vocalized with a pataḥ under the resh.[1]
MSS Kaufmann and Parma have another point in common: as opposed to the printed editions of the Mishna, the original text of the manuscripts does not have the words של עולם; Kaufmann has them added above the line, and Parma in the margin (in both cases as clitics, written as one word). As scholars have noted, this indicates that the original was רבוני alone but a later hand added של עולם and extended the yod of רבוני (which is grammatically required and graphically obvious) to make it into a vav, thus producing עולם של רבונו.
The first person possessive suffix recalls the New Testament reference to Jesus as rabbouni /rabboni. In addition to the New Testament, the word with the first person suffix (‘my teacher’) is commonly found in several of the Aramaic texts mentioned above.  In regard to Hebrew texts, besides MSS Kaufmann and Parma, רבוני is commonly found in geniza manuscripts of Hebrew midrashic works. A search of the word on the Friedberg Genizah database (genizah.org) results in 23 hits of רבוני, all but one in Hebrew texts, and that figure does not even take into account cases where the reading is obvious but not certain and the search results did not therefore include it.[2]
An interesting example of רבוני in a Hebrew context is found in a reconstructed text of Bavli, ’Avoda Zara 17a. Here we find the story of R. Eliezer’s arrest for heresy. R. Eliezer, who lived in the second half of the first century and the beginning of the second century, explained his heresy to R. Akiva as follows (additions in curly brackets follow the uncensored Munich 95 and Paris 1337 manuscripts):

פעם אחת הייתי מהלך בשוק העליון של ציפורי ומצאתי אחד {מתלמידי יש”ו הנוצרי} ויעקב איש כפר סכניא שמו אמר לי כתוב בתורתכם (דברים כג) לא תביא אתנן זונה [וגו’] מהו לעשות הימנו בהכ”ס לכ”ג ולא אמרתי לו כלום אמר לי כך לימדני {יש”ו הנוצרי} (מיכה א) [כי] מאתנן זונה קבצה ועד אתנן זונה ישובו ממקום הטנופת באו למקום הטנופת ילכו. 

Translation: I was once walking in the upper market of Sepphoris when I came across one of the disciples of Jesus the Nazarene, Jacob of Kefar Sekhania by name, who said to me: “It is written in your Torah, You shall not bring the hire of a harlot . . . into the house of the Lord your  God (Deut. 23:19). May such money be used to build a toilet for the High Priest? I didn’t answer him. He said to me: “Thus Jesus the Nazarene taught me: For of the hire of a harlot has she gathered them and to the hire of a harlot shall they return (Micah 1:7) – They came from a place of filth, let them go to a place of filth.”

In place of אמר לי כך לימדני {יש”ו הנוצרי} [כי] מאתנן זונה קבצה…., the superior Marx-Abramson manuscript (JTS Rab 15) of ’Avoda Zara reads:  אמ’ לי כך למדו ישו רבו כי מאתנן זונה קבצה …. with an inserted ש over the כ of כך, and a notation mark inserted above the line between רבו and כי, as seen below.

In the printed edition, as well as MSS Paris and Munich, R. Eliezer recounts the disciple’s comments in direct discourse: “He said to me: ‘It is written in your Torah ….’” and “He said to me: ‘Thus Jesus the Nazarene taught me/us ….’” MS JTS, however, presents the first phrase in direct discourse, but the second in indirect discourse, as indicated by the third person pronominal suffixes in למדו and רבו (“Thus Jesus his teacher taught him”). Thus,[3]
Ed.:                 אמר לי כך לימדני [כי] אמר לי כתוב בתורתכם /
Paris:               אמ’ לי כתו’ בתורת’ / אמ’ לי כך למדנו ישו הנוצרי כי
Munich:  א’ לי כתו’ בתורתכ’ / א’ לי כך למדני ישו הנוצרי כי
JTS:           אמ’ לי כתוב כתורתכם / אמ’ לי [ש]כך למדו ישו רבו כי
The change to indirect discourse was, no doubt, what caused the scribe to insert the ש above כך. But clearly direct discourse is called for as indicated by the preceding direct discourse in אמר לי כתוב in MS JTS, and in the lack of ש in ישו כך לימדני/למדנו אמר לי in the other witnesses. What would have caused the (confusing) change to indirect discourse in the MS JTS?  
The notation mark above the line between רבו and כי gives a clue. That mark points to a marginal notation. Such notations in this manuscript often refer to another reading of the indicated text. Unfortunately, whatever the scribe wrote in the left margin has been covered by a strip of paper glued to the page to strengthen it and prevent its separation from the codex. But I wouldn’t be surprised if the marginal comment presented the reading רבוני, like that found in the Kaufmann and Parma manuscripts of the Mishna Ta’anit.  Perhaps an indication that רבוני was the original reading is the directly following quote from Micah 1:7, which begins with the word כי (כי מאתנן זונה קבצה ועד אתנן זונה ישובו). The anomalous reading of  רבוin MS JTS may well have derived from an original רבוני, which became רבו כי due to the graphic similarity of kaf and nun, and the fact that the verse in Micah began with כי. Once רבוני became רבו כי, other changes were required to conform to the third person suffix of רבו and the resulting indirect discourse of the text, and so לימדני was changed to למדו and a ש was inserted to turn כך into שכך. The missing כי in the printed edition may also derive from this confusion.
If this reconstruction is correct, not only do we have another case of the Hebrew word רבון with a first person pronominal suffix (רבוני ), but the word is used to refer to Jesus just as it is in the New Testament. So in addition to the blind man and Mary Magdalene, we have another who called Jesus רבוני – Jacob of Kefar Sekhania, the disciple of Jesus, who taught R. Eliezer an interpretation of a biblical verse.
The Gospel of John glosses the word רבוני as ‘teacher.’ Shouldn’t the possessive suffix (רבוני) require a translation ‘my teacher,’ just as the Aramaic and Hebrew uses of the word clearly indicate a translation ‘my teacher’?[4] Not necessarily. A translation without the possessive would be similar to the term רבי/Rabbi, in which the suffix lost its possessive meaning (‘my’) and the word, as a frozen term, came to mean ‘teacher’ or ‘master.’ Support for this may be found, although from a later period, in Arabic literature. The Qur’an (5:47, 66) preserves the word رباني (rabbānī), which, as the Kisters (father and son) showed, derives from רבוני.[5] But the word cannot mean ‘my teacher’ because in the Qur’anic context it appears in the absolute plural: ربانيون (rabbānīyuna) i.e., ‘teachers.’ In other words, the final vowel in רבוני did not function as a pronominal suffix, as the Kisters noted. The word, rather, evolved as a frozen term from an original meaning ‘my teacher’ into the meaning ‘teacher,’ just as John glossed rabbouni as ‘teacher,’ and just as רבי evolved in meaning from ‘my teacher/master’ to ‘teacher/master’ (Rabbi), which, incidentally, is how John elsewhere (1:38) translates rabbi (ραββι). Y. Kutscher explained the word רבן (as in רבן גמליאל) the same way, comparing it with the French monsignor.[6] In the final analysis, not only was the pope right that Jesus spoke Aramaic, but the evidence of Jesus’ speech in the New Testament records precisely the pronunciation and meaning of the Aramaic of his time and place.

* See David M. Goldenberg’s other articles on his website at http://sites.sas.upenn.edu/dmg2 or at https://upenn.academia.edu/DavidGoldenberg.

[1] See Ḥ. Yalon in Leshonenu 24 (1960) 162; Y. Kutscher, “Leshon ḥazal,” in Sefer anok Yalon (Jerusalem, 1963), pp. 268-271 (reprinted in Kutscher, Meḥqarim be-Ivrit uve-Aramit, Jerusalem, 1977, pp. צה-צח); Z. Ben-Ḥayyim. ’Ivrit we-Aramit nusaḥ Shomron 3.2 (Jerusalem, 1967), pp. 37-38. Targum Neofit references are in Michael Sokoloff, A Dictionary of Jewish Palestinian Aramaic of the Byzantine Period (Ramat-Gan/Baltimore, 1990, 2003), s.v. רבון. In addition to the references in these articles, note that a Syriac version of the original Greek Transitus beatae Mariae virginis has Mary refer to Jesus as “Rabbuli, the messiah” which W. Wright takes as “Rabbuni, the messiah” (W. Wright, trans. and notes, Contributions to the Apocryphal Literature of the New Testament, collected and edited from Syriac Manuscripts in the British Museum, London, 1865), pp. 19, trans.; 28 text; 60 note.  The liturgical fragments: Naftali Wieder, “Ha-ṣura rabbun bi-mqorot ’Ivriim,” Leshonenu 27-28 (1963-64) 214-217.
[2] With two exceptions (a piyyu‹ and a medieval letter), all are midrashic texts.
[3] The readings from MSS Paris and Munich are taken fromשאול ליברמן  מאגר עדי הנוסח של התלמוד הבבלי ע”ש = Sol and Evelyn Henkind Talmud Text Databank.
[4] Of the 23 instances recorded in the Friedberg database, all but one are petitions to God as רבוני, usually made by Moses. One (T-S Misc. 36.198 2v, lines 14 and 16) parallel רבוני and מרי, ’my master.’ In Aramaic, e.g., Targum Neofiti translates אדוני אברהם in Gen. 24:27 as רבוני אברהם.
[5] M.Y. and Menaḥem Kister, “Al Yehudei Arav — he’arot,” Tarbiẓ 48 (1979), pp. 233-234.
[6] Y. Kutscher, “Ha-Aramit shel ha-Shomronim,” in his Meḥqarim be-Ivrit uve-Aramit, Jerusalem, 1977, pp. רסג-רסב.